In The Name
by Ennee Gray
Summary: AU. Tony has spent most of his life trying to get away from his family. G has spent most of his life trying to find his family. Then there's this thing about forever. Nothing's forever. You can't run forever. Things don't stay hidden forever.
1. Revelations

_**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and I don't own NCIS Los Angeles.**_

A/N – Since the first AN the story has _of course_ expanded… This story is GEN through and through, but if you pick up undertones – it's no more than in the shows themselves. This story has also changed its name (on LJ anyway) and it's also available for reading on LJ, you can check through the homepage on my profile. I have edited some things since posting on LJ though. All that said – enjoy.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Revelations<strong>

Tony was alone in the bullpen when the call came in.

Gibbs was with the Director in the MTAC, McGee was out getting lunch and Ziva was in bathroom – Tony could only guess whether in the men's room or the ladies room. So Tony was uncharacteristically alone. He wasn't doing anything in particular though to anyone asking he'd say that he was meditating.

They'd been on cold cases for a week and if this case-dry period was going to last a week longer, then he would actually have to attend another one of those HR seminars, so while he specifically didn't wish for someone to die horribly – he did want something to do. The phone call seemed like a beacon to a man lost at sea. In storm. _And_ half-starving. He almost overbalanced on his chair as he straightened to grab the phone.

"DiNozzo," he barked in the receiver.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo Junior?"

The voice on the other end sounded lawyer_ish_. He had a good gut – not as good as Gibbs' gut, but an overall good gut and his gut was telling him that something wasn't right. Maybe some bank had confused his and his father's accounts _again_.

"Yeah," he replied cautiously.

"I'm Mr. Burke from Burke & Hill lawyer's office. I'm your father's legal representative and I'm afraid I have bad news for you."

His father had many lawyers so Tony didn't even blink at the name he recognized only vaguely. His heart did stutter in his chest. _Bad news._ What did it tell him about his father if his father's _lawyer_ called to tell him that something was wrong? He hated himself for the anxiety he could feel creeping up his spine – his father did not deserve the consideration. Tony grunted in the phone indicating that he was still listening.

"Your father was admitted to hospital in Long Island yesterday. He has been suffering from a liver disease for over a year now and has been on a transplant list for almost as long. I'm afraid he's living his last days now and he has asked me to contact you to ask you in his name to come visit him."

"What if he had a living donor?" Tony asked before he could stop himself. Why the hell did he offer? It's not like he _wanted_ to give up part of his liver for the bastard that had been absent most of his life, did he? And – why the hell would a lawyer know about livers anyway? Tony felt like smacking himself at the back of the head.

"The disease is far too advanced for a living donor to be able to help. Even if he was granted a whole liver now – it's far too late. I'm sorry," and what's the worst thing – the man on the phone, Mr. Burke really did sound genuinely sorry.

"Right," Tony muttered. He felt guilty for feeling relieved. He didn't know what he'd do, if he actually had the chance to save his father. Some part of him hoped he'd have the guts to tell _'no'_. He didn't like the Oliver Twist role he constantly felt pushed into when it came to his father. _'Please, sir, can I have some more,' of your attention._

"Agent DiNozzo? What do I tell your father?"

"Tell him, I'll be there," Tony said before unceremoniously dropping the phone. Now he did smack himself in the back of the head before relaxing back into the chair. All he had to do now was to figure out how to get a couple of days free without letting the team know what was up.

It wasn't because he thought that they wouldn't care. Hell, he knew that Probie would get them first class tickets on the first plane out on his own money if not the agency's, while Gibbs would put everyone on leave, and even Abby would want to tag along for support... He didn't want the circus. He sure loved his NCIS family, but he also didn't want them exposed to his father. He didn't want to make this out to be a big deal either. He'd make peace with his old man, before the guy died and that's it. Sure, the whole thing felt and stank like shit, but it's not like he was going to be permanently traumatized or something. He'd get over it quickly enough. He had done it before.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Tony?" Gibbs looked up at his senior field agent after reading the first two sentences on the paper slipped under his nose.

"We've been working cold cases for a week now, and I do have a lot of unused vacation time," Tony replied shrugging.

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something – something nasty and scathing, judging by his expression, but Ziva got there first.

"What's her name, Tony?" she asked. "I bet her legs _'go to the sky where she flies'_," she mockingly quoted what she'd heard Tony say earlier on the phone. "She's a flight attendant and she's in town only for the weekend? Blonde and nicknamed Ginger, yes?"

Tony blinked. Ziva must have seen him browsing airline websites or flirting with the flight consultant, if she got that idea, though he did not recognize the exact words she had used. He grinned a big shit-eating grin and didn't disappoint his partner, when he said, "Actually, the name's Brenda and she's a redhead!" He spared a look at his boss, "Sorry, boss, not all redheads are for you."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs growled taking charge of situation.

"Come on, Boss. I just want a couple of days," he made sure to sound a bit whiny. "I know those wives did a number on you, but you _must_ remember how it was when the occasional Cinderella rolled in town." Gibbs put up with a lot from him, but Tony knew that, if he wanted to irritate his boss into doing what he wanted Gibbs to do without arousing suspicions, then he had to hit low and fly high and superior, _and_ better have plan B. "Or Snow White, or Little Red Riding Hood, whichever suits your needs best."

He heard Ziva gasp and felt more than saw McGee looking up from his computer. He bit his tongue as to not wince when he saw the expression on Gibbs' face.

"Not that there's anything wrong with abstaining," he back-pedaled. "Not that I'm saying that you're abstaining..."

Gibbs stood. "With me," he ordered sharply rounding the table and heading for the elevator.

Tony shot a pleading look at McGee who grimaced companionably, but didn't say anything. Tony turned on his heel and followed his boss. So far so good. "On your six, Boss," he announced loudly.

"Hope she's worth it," Ziva hissed at him when he walked past her.

"Not _Hope_ – it's _Brenda_ this week," Tony replied and winked at her before hurrying to catch up with Gibbs. He barely managed to slide in the elevator cabin before the doors closed.

The elevator was between the stops when Gibbs flicked a switch and it shuddered to a halt. He turned and stared down at Tony wordlessly demanding an explanation.

Tony knew he had to play this smart. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as if he was nervous. He was, to tell the truth, a little bit, anyway. "I just need a couple of days off."

"Why?"

Tony figured that Gibbs must have completely run out of patience, if the man actually brought himself to voice the demand. "I'm not feeling... I feel off my game. I need to take a few days to get my head straight. It's not busy now and you know that when it is it's … _Wow_. Like the War of the Ring every time and ..." he paused to draw a breath and coughed inconspicuously.

"Your lungs bothering you?"

"No, I'm fine," Tony immediately and dutifully protested before coughing again. "It's just been a while since I had time off, you know. And it's not been an exactly easy ride these past few years, so. I promise I'll be back next week as good as new. Fresh and bright on Monday. I just need the weekend off-call."

"Alright," Gibbs agreed graciously and turned the elevator back on. "If you're not fine on Monday, DiNozzo," he left the threat open ended.

"I'll be bright and early!" Tony promised with a grin. He smirked at McGee and waggled his eyebrows at Ziva before sliding into his chair for the entire world looking like cat that got the cream.

NCISXNCIS:LA

It was late Saturday afternoon when he walked into his father's hospital room. The man, who had seemed bigger than a grizzly bear most of his childhood, looked positively tiny in the hospital bed.

"Hello, father," Tony said and didn't wait for an invitation to sit down in the plastic chair by the bed.

"Junior," his father rasped. "You're here."

Tony nodded, "Your lawyer said you wanted to see me."

"I want to tell you something," DiNozzo Senior replied. "It's nothing you wouldn't find out from lawyers when I die, but..."

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Tony interrupted. He was genuinely curious about that.

Senior pushed himself higher up in the bed. "I didn't want you here," he answered, honestly. "I knew that if you knew you'd come no matter how hard you claim to hate me. I didn't want you to pretend to be the dutiful son that _you're not_. You've never done what I've asked you to do. A little bit of good press during my last months – you taking one for the family. Taking care of _me_. I didn't want that circus."

Tony flinched only when his father's words echoed his own thoughts a few days ago. He didn't want his team here, because he hadn't wanted _the circus_. The unintentional similarity in choice of words sickened him. Suddenly he wished Gibbs was here to put a hand on his shoulder and offer silent support. He wanted Abby to be here to show everyone what was real circus and how fun it was. And Ducky – who would have a remotely related story. Even Probie who would be more uncomfortable than him with the situation and Ziva who'd be annoyed, but would appear unflappable.

"You wanted me here now," Tony reminded coldly.

"I want to see you make your decision while I'm alive," his father rasped. "There's a chance you might yet surprise me."

Tony frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Did you ever wonder about your trust fund? Your mother set it up for you and she was never the brightest or long-term thinking woman, but she _was_ wealthy. Her whole family is rich. So did you ever wonder why you got so little?"

"Not particularly, no."

DiNozzo Senior laughed. "Figures. Well, it's so tiny, because she set it up as your pocket-money account when you started school."

Tony clasped his hands in front of himself and forced his body to relax. Whatever his father was planning on telling him to rattle him was not going to work. He'd dealt with people far worse than his old man. And as much as he loved money, he wanted nothing from his father – he was almost sure of that.

"Hrrm," Senior grumbled. "When she died, your half of her money went into my custody. I couldn't touch it, but I could decide when and how to give it to you without any restriction. Like I said – your mother wasn't very good planner and she didn't have a very good lawyer when we signed the pre-nuptial contracts..."

Tony was disgusted by the self-satisfied expression on his father's face. "Why do I have the feeling you had something to do with that?"

"That's not important. Your mother isn't important. Money is important. Your money."

"I've never seen it. Haven't missed it," Tony retorted.

"See," his father snarled. "This is the attitude. That's why I never saw it fit to give it to you. If you wanted to _rough it_ like the ordinary folks, you could do so without your mother's money."

"_My_ money," Tony reminded calmly.

DiNozzo Senior smirked. "Your money," he mocked. "You're not good enough for money. You didn't even ask why you get only a half."

Tony sighed. "Figured, half goes to you as the husband."

His father huffed. "I got nothing, but problems from your miserable mother. Now comes the story. I'm dying and I don't really care about you anymore, but I do want to be the one to tell you the truth about your whore of a mother and the bastard she gave birth to. You see, she was already pregnant when we got married. I found out only after the wedding and let me tell you – that thing in her belly wasn't mine. Now, I'm a nice guy and divorce would have been ugly and bad for business so I told her – she could either abort it or if it's a girl, keep it. Since you don't have sister, you've probably figured that she gave birth to a little bastard. I wasn't about to let my family fortune fall into hands of an unrelated urchin, so I took the kid and anonymously donated him to the system."

"You did what?" Tony asked. He was shocked to the core and trembling. Whatever he'd thought his father was going to spring on him... It sure as hell wasn't this.

"Day after the little cretin was born, I gave him away. I did it for you. I wasn't about to let some unrelated son of my bitch of a wife take what belonged to my heir – you," his father said calmly.

"Though you turned out to be a major disappointment. Maybe a little competition would have been good for you. You would have appreciated your father's business more," DiNozzo Senior managed to look both wistful and calculative. There was a glint in his eye that Tony should have been able to recognize as a trained investigator – _a lie_, but nothing ever had hit this close to home in any of the hundreds of interrogations he'd been into. His father was lying. Or at least, not telling the whole story, but then again, it wasn't DiNozzo Senior's goal to be honest – and Tony didn't see it.

"So, see. Your mother dedicated the other half of her money to that bastard and I'm sorry, son, but there's nothing I can do to get to that half. Believe me; I've tried, ever since I found out about that small-print clause in her testament when she died."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Tony barely managed to voice a question.

"Because when I die you will stand before a choice. I have written a back-dated order for your half of your mother's money to be released to you. You can have that and all I have, if you promise to never try to look for that little weasel your mother gave birth to before you. I'm not even asking you to quit that ridiculous job of yours. I'm giving you the last chance to be a real DiNozzo."

"And if I refuse?" his throat was dry.

"Well, then you get nothing. Because in case you prove to be an idiot and turn down my generous offer, all my money goes to my cousins and the dog shelter – to anyone, but you and without that back-dated order your mother's will's conditions kick in and you get _nothing_. You can't touch her money, if you don't find that bastard. And I guarantee you – you won't," DiNozzo Senior smirked when he said that.

"What makes you think I won't? I work for a federal agency. You have no idea what resources I could employ to find my brother." _'My brother,' _words felt strange, but right on his tongue. There was someone else in the world who was family, besides his father and rarely seen uncles. He'd be ecstatic, if it wasn't such a shock. Tony felt a bit like a character in a movie.

"Half-brother," DiNozzo Senior spat. "And you won't find him; because _I did_ and I did everything I could to make any trace linking him to my family name disappears. Your mother never found anything and she had all her wealth at her disposal," he scoffed at the mention of his wife.

"Mom looked for him?" Tony hated how his voice broke. He had always thought his mother was weird and cold woman. Rarely affectionate and mostly just possessive. To find out that she had left half of everything she had to him and the other half to a child she had lost before him, but had never given up on – it explained a lot about her behavior and for the first time in a long time he felt only love when he thought of her.

"She never found anything," his father repeated, smugly.

Tony's eyes were bright and he fought not to shed tears when he looked in his father's face. "You're a bastard." God, he was not going to cry. He was tougher than that.

DiNozzo Senior smirked. "Well, I never expected you to surprise me and become a real man, but it was worth telling you this myself. A grown _boy_. A DiNozzo nonetheless – just about to start wailing like a baby. You're not worth my money. Disowning you was the best thing I ever did in my life."

Tony stood. "The only good thing you did was just now. Telling me I have a brother."

"The lawyers would have told you anyway when I died. It's in your mother's will. It'll be released when I die. _This_ I did for my own amusement."

"Goodbye, father," Tony said barely controlling himself. He was trembling with anger and joy, but mostly he was confused and in shock. He turned on his heel and left, never looking back. He didn't stop until he was outside the hospital. Once outside he bent over and took a couple of deep breaths. Not quite the peacemaking he had expected, but... A new beginning, maybe, though it was way too soon to tell. He felt slightly nauseous.

_'Oh, God. I have a brother!'_

NCISXNCIS:LA

_Hannah Lawson_

That's what the tombstone read, but G new better. It was his sister down there. Amy Callen. He could barely remember her. Just a few vague moments. Memories half-hidden in fog. The scar on his wrist was the only thing that assured him that he wasn't delusional, that he wasn't mixing dreams with reality. It had happened. The red cart. The fall. The laughter and the tears. He had a sister. He had a scar to prove it.

He glanced at the flowers at the base of the tombstone. He had _had_ a sister. He didn't even remember her face.

He looked at the card he had put back in the bouquet, he didn't touch it, just looked. It was the same hand writing as from the notebook with the list of all his foster homes. His father. It had to be. But then, _why? _Why hadn't the man come forward? Why hadn't he and his sister lived safe with their father rather than in foster homes? His sister would be alive then. He would know his name then.

The bouquet. It was beautiful. It meant that whoever put it there _cared_. Why would a person who cares abandon his children to the system? As always G had only questions and no answers.

Though as Keelson had suggested, his questions where no longer, _who?_ He knew who. Amy, his sister. His father, who was so obviously still around. Why. That's the question he was told to ask and now he wondered. _Why?_

What could he ever have done to deserve this?

NCISXNCIS:LA

It was Tuesday and Tony was munching on a burger while also reading the file of their newest suspect for their newest murder victim. Only a few new things had happened in the last week and a half since he'd gotten back from Long Island. _Actually_, the new case was about the only big new thing to happen. He finished his burger and yawned. He slammed the folder close and leaned back into his chair.

"Tony, you can't possibly be finished with that already!"

He raised his eyebrow, well, eyebrows, but he did try to raise only one, like Spock. Anyway, he raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ziva. "I am and even if I wasn't, I wouldn't be sharing."

"What?"

"It was a damn good burger," he said relaxing in his chair and closing his eyes.

"I meant the paperwork, Tony!" she rolled her eyes. "You can't be possibly finished with the file. Though speaking of the trash food, some sharing would only do you good," she made a point to stare at his stomach, but since he was pretending to be sleeping, her efforts were wasted.

"It's _junk food_, Ziva," he corrected absentmindedly.

"Whatever," she shrugged. "You better have something for Gibbs, if you're going to have a nap now."

"I'm not napping, I'm meditating," he corrected again.

She shrugged again, "Same difference."

Tony smiled. "Work smarter, not harder, Probie," he said vaguely remembering using the same phrase before. "And do it quietly," he added crossing his arms behind his head and raising his legs up on the desk.

He knew it wouldn't be long until Gibbs would storm in the bullpen with some new piece of information or a _gut feeling_ and then the whirlwind that was an active case would pick up again, but for now Tony could just relax for a moment. Meditate a little. And think.

In the last week he had made a few inquiries. About his father. About his mother. He had been stonewalled every step of the way. All paperwork was locked up on his father's orders and all that was his to know would be released only upon his father's death. The rest... Tony was sure his father had made certain that the rest was destroyed, before he even told him _the story_.

Once his emotions had settled a bit, Tony had started to seriously consider that his father could have lied. It most certainly wouldn't be beneath DiNozzo Senior to send him on a wild goose chase. The excuses and occasionally even _mute silence _that greeted his questions though convinced him that there was at least _something_ that he didn't know. Whether it was bigger or smaller than his father made it to be; whether it was the same thing at all – Tony didn't know and it was implied, he wouldn't, not while his father was still alive.

He hadn't told his team what he'd been up to yet either. Then again, there was nothing to tell. _Not yet. _And if he told them what was going on, then he'd have to admit to manipulating them and that was more than he was ready to do. Though he knew that he might need their help. Even though he knew that they'd give him their best without any reservations.

His fingers clenched into fists beneath his head. A mess. Everything was such a mess, he wasn't sure from where to begin to untangle it all.

He lowered his arms into his lap and relaxed his fists. He would approach this as he approached every case. He would start with what he knew and work forward from there. It was just at the moment he didn't know anything. Not for certain.

Tony opened one eye to glance around and at Ziva. She was still working and Gibbs wasn't in sight. He would tell his team once he knew something for certain. No sense in getting everyone worked up if this turned out to be just another one of his father's tricks to fuck with his brain. He closed his eye. He was secure in the knowledge that the team would stand by him when he was ready to come clean – well, at least half clean, there was no way he was going to admit how easy it was to manipulate them; it'd be less fun that way. He smiled lightly. They wouldn't let him fall.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked kicking at Tony's desk.

Startled, more than usual due to his deep thinking, Tony jumped, overbalanced and fell to the floor. Before he could say anything Ziva laughed, Gibbs frowned and the telephone on his work desk rang. Also his back ached.

He automatically jumped to his feet, grimaced and grabbed the phone. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, listening..."

The first words he received over the line made him freeze. He could feel Gibbs and Ziva watching him, but how was he supposed to stop blood from draining away from his face? Unlike the conversation nearly two weeks ago, this one was short. A thank you for the received condolences, a confirmation that, yes, Saturday morning was good enough and it was painlessly over. He put the receiver down.

"Tony?" Ziva asked tentatively.

"DiNozzo?" Damn, even Gibbs sounded concerned.

Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. It was time to face the music. Inappropriately in his head the first notes of "**How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?**" rang. He turned to face his boss and partner. Only Probie was missing from bullpen. He smiled shakily feeling much more confident that he looked. Then the words tumbled out, "My father's dead."

NCISXNCIS:LA

Gibbs had wanted to put him off-call for the whole weekend, but Tony had insisted that a second weekend free would be far too indulgent. As it is, he suspected that Gibbs was suspecting something, after all, his father is dead and as much of a bastard as DiNozzo Senior was – Tony isn't and he did feel genuinely bad, but the grief for what he had never really had was buried under all the excitement about what he _could_ have.

It was Saturday and from the way Abby was eying him from the opposite armchair he was sure that his attitude had to have seemed a little weird over the last few days. He grinned tentatively at her. She frowned.

Tony sighed. "You really didn't have to come, you know."

"Yeah, I did," she replied with complete conviction over her own words. "Ducky has to release the victims' body to the family and complete the paperwork. Gibbs, Ziva and McGee are wrapping up the case files for their reports, but _you're_ excused and _I'm_ finished with the evidence so I'm here to support you."

"This isn't a funeral, you know," he said. Speaking of which, he wasn't sure what to do regarding the funeral. It's not like he had any idea what his father would have wanted or liked. It's not like he could erect a tombstone in the middle of the Wall-street which was just about the only place of significance for his father. "Just a reading of the will."

He realized he must have looked as lost as he felt, because Abby reached over and grabbed his hand, and squeezed reassuringly. Tony smiled and squeezed back.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Abby wasn't let in on the actual reading. Tony could have insisted, but on some level he was afraid of what he was going to hear and he wasn't sure he could act appropriately surprised or shocked to convince Abby he hadn't known something previously. Not to mention that Abby would immediately tell Gibbs and Gibbs would _do something_, Tony wasn't sure what, but his boss always did _something_ to get things moving and Tony... Tony just needed a while to digest the information, to calm down.

He needed to know things in advance if he was to keep a step above his teammates and with a matter so personal, he could not afford to be the last one to know. He needed to be told first. For _one goddamn time_, at least.

It took the lawyer almost two hours to tell him what his father had told him in less than thirty minutes. Well, to be honest, Tony could point out that the lawyer was being polite in his speech where his father hadn't hesitated to speak crudely. Still the point was the same – accept the terms and you get the money, decline and you walk away as penniless as you came in. Tony hadn't spent a single conscious moment contemplating his choice. He had chosen the first time he'd been put before this ultimatum and he'd done it without even thinking about it, he wasn't going to change his mind now.

"Do you wish to see your mother's will before you decide?"

Tony almost shrugged. It didn't really matter what his mother's will said, but he'd never seen it before. At this point he didn't doubt his father's word, but then again _Rule Number Three: Don't believe what you're told. Double check_. "Yes."

His mother's will was laughingly simple and short, if one compares it to the book of conditions his father had written up. Five minutes later he glanced up from the paper. "It says here that I get a letter."

The lawyer frowned and checked his own paperwork. "That is true. The letter will be released to you no matter what you choose to do regarding your father's will, however I cannot release you, before you make an official decision. It's in paragraph 38 clause 4 sub clause A in your father's will."

Tony smiled warily. "_Damned if I do, damned if I don't_, huh?"

The lawyer blinked not sure how to answer to the replica. Luckily for him, Tony wasn't expecting a reply, he went back to re-reading his mother's will to make sure he hadn't missed anything the first time. Ten minutes later he was sure he hadn't. The whole thing was straight to the point and as much as he might have hoped to glean something about his mother – at least read her own words – in the document, but it was painfully obvious that while the will was based on her wishes, it was completely drawn up by a lawyer – an incompetent or brought one at that.

Tony felt a nauseating urge to laugh. The stack of papers in front of him is what his parent's lives summed up to. Everything they were and all they left to him – _his legacy_ was a hillside's worth of contradicting legal papers each outranking the next.

He handed the will back to the lawyer. "Give me the renouncement forms. I respectfully decline my late father's kind and last offer to be his dutiful son," if the lawyer heard the sarcasm in his tone, the man didn't comment.

His parents were dead. Their quarrel was dead with them. Tony was glad to realize that he didn't give a shit about the mess they'd both left him with. He signed away the fortunes of his mother and father with easy hand.


	2. Frustration

_**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or NCIS Los Angeles.**_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Frustration<strong>

G didn't have a car as such (though the NCIS OPS garage held a couple specifically for his aliases) which is also the main reason (aside from the fact that G could swear that Sam is a control freak) why during the day (and night, if the case required it) if any driving needed to be done – they used Sam's car, _but_ he did have a transport vehicle. One does not live in LA and _walk_.

He let his fingers slide along the smooth black metal of the gas tank to the soft leather seat before climbing the bike. The motorcycle, which had cost him pretty penny, was part indulgence, part insurance. He took care of his ride; kept a close eye on it and it was so much harder to sabotage a motorcycle that's under 24h guard of his watchful eye, than a car. At least, that's what he told himself when he bought it the same day his physiotherapist let him off permanently (under the assumption G still had a month off-duty). This is all, of course, until he gets shot again. This in turn is how G figured that since a bike is smaller, it's easier to keep an eye on and at the same time, it's also a moving and very maneuverable target – harder to hit.

What G so cleverly hadn't accounted for was that aside from shooters and saboteurs, there are also less conspicuous ways to attack someone on the road.

The 2009 model of Kawasaki Concours 14 has nice fat tires (being a sports model and all) which allows the rider to enter a turn in a fairly low degree against the road, which G was glad to find out felt as cool as it looked, however when you're driving a bike that weighs a ton (or near it, G had never actually bothered to find out) there is a fine line between balance and fall.

It was a small three way intersection, only one lane each way. Just as G was approaching it a man on the street walk took off his cap and a black SUV further down the street powered up. Just as G rounded the corner the SUV tore down the street in his lane, towards him. Reacting instantly – still leaning to the right coming out of the turn, G let his weight shift and the bike overbalance and fall.

The contact with the ground was hard. It knocked the breath out of his lungs and he didn't feel jeans tearing on his right knee which he scraped raw as he fell. The inertia carried off the spinning bike against the wheels of the SUV, but G didn't see that. His body rolled like a rag doll carried by the inertia of the fall until he slammed headfirst into a wall.

The SUV barely managed to avoid the motorcycle and immediately turned right at the intersection and left gaining speed by the second. The man on the sidewalk was also gone by the time G's bike stopped spinning wildly.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"_Sweet Anthony,_

I've started this letter numerous times and I've realized that greeting is the hardest part to write. Everything else just falls into place sooner or later. I've also realized I'd rather sound more insane than I am, than resemble him in any way. I mean your father.

You probably won't get this letter for many more years and I'm sorry. You deserved much more as a child than a grieving mother and deadbeat drunk for a father. I can only hope that you grow up to be what I'd like you to be. Every parent has a dream for their child and I know it's unfair – your father wants you to be him and I want you to be anything but. You can't please us both. He never deserved you and for what I'm about to do – neither do I.

I'm not smart. I've never pretended that I am. I know I've made mistakes and I know you and your brother have paid for them in full. I just want you to know that I never considered you or your brother a mistake. You're the best I've given and received from this world.

If you read this – either your father let you have it and, well, then you're probably not even reading this. You are a real DiNozzo heir then. In that case I want you to know that I hate what you've become. I hate the DiNozzo legacy. Whatever your father's told you about me, I want you to know that I am a woman from a simple, if wealthy family and I've never put much stock into ancestry or surnames, of all things. I'd rather you be a nameless orphan than a DiNozzo.

If your father is dead and you finally know the truth about most things – firstly, I'm glad the bastard is finally here on the other side. I promise I'll give him hell. Also. I'm proud. I'm so proud, because you're not like him; I have no right to be that proud. I didn't deserve your brother either.

You probably already know that if you don't have the control over your part of the money, you can't get it until you find your brother. Your father has tried to convince me that my firstborn is dead, but I'm a mother. I know better. He has to be alive and I want you to find him.

If Gabriel's dead then you will have everything I've ever owned. If not it's all split in equal shares between you two. I had wonderful time planning what either of you would have liked to receive. I imagined myself as Mrs. Santa Claus. Not that DiNozzo could ever be a Santa. He's the devil.

I put these conditions in not to punish you, but to give you something I could never give you while I was alive and what every child deserves. A family. A sibling is the closest thing a child can have aside from Mom and Dad. I'm not a great Mom. I'm not even a good Mom and I apologize for that. I didn't even choose an alright Dad for you. The only thing I can give you, baby, is your older brother.

I named him Gabriel before your father took him away from me barely a day after I gave birth. I never saw him again. I was sick a lot after that. I'm sick a lot now too. When I was finally able to move around and secretly hire a private investigator all the clues were gone. I was pregnant with you by the time I heard first news.

I know for a fact that at month old, your brother was adopted by a middle class American family. The records were buried so deep it took the investigator years to get the barest scrap of information and by now I have no strength to wait and fight more.

I also now know that your father knows where my child, your brother is. He confronted me a week ago. He told me that he discovered my private investigator and he ordered me to stop looking. He hadn't ordered me anything since I gave up your brother. He told me... He told me that your brother's foster family fell apart. That there was some sort of tragedy. He didn't elaborate. He didn't even sound sorry. He wouldn't. I begged. I pleaded. I threatened.

I know I won't find anything anymore. Ever. I may sound dramatic, but I feel dramatic. At this point I do hope that it's been many years for as selfish as I am, I wouldn't want my ten year old to read that I have no wish left to live.

It's been years of nothing and now I don't even have hope that I might have you both by my side. I don't want you to think that you weren't enough for me, my sweet baby. I just can't be the mother you deserve. And I can't bear to be another parent who is a complete disappointment. Maybe without me your father will be more tolerable. I'm loath to leave you to him, but I'm also loath to make you suffer me.

I'm not in my right mind. I'm constantly drunk. I drunk your pet fish and didn't even notice until you started to cry for them. I'm so sorry, baby.

I've never been smart, I'm not a good wife, I'm a worse Mother, I'm a bad example and I'm not brave, and I'm not important. I don't want your pity, I'm being honest. I'm also rich and fairly good looking. You and your brother are the only ones who give meaning to my existence.

I'm sorry, Anthony, that I'm a better mother when I'm dead than when I am alive.

Find your brother. Find a partner. Form a family. You are brilliant as a child. I hope your luck won't run out and the light in your eyes won't be gone by the time this letter reaches you.

From wherever I'll end up – I'll think good thoughts for you, my baby boy.

_Love, Mom." _

The letter was the most comforting thing he'd ever received from his mother, but at the same time it pissed Tony off. She wanted him to find his sibling and as if he didn't have enough issues with that, she didn't even bother to mention just how _older_ this older brother is. What the hell was he supposed to do with _a name_?

He put the letter in a drawer of his nightstand before the urge to crumple it in a ball and toss away won over his more sentimental instincts.

He felt like a caged animal. He needed to tear something apart. He had all this excess energy, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anywhere to go. He'd thought that he'd put a stop to ever feeling like this again when he put his signature on the papers that renounced what had been the most defining feature of both of his parents, but no...

At the moment he couldn't help, but hate this mysterious brother who had heaped a whole lot of trouble on him. Not to mention that this older brother was a grown man too. Why would a grown man care about a long-lost brother he'd never heard of? Why would anyone care about some random relatives they've never seen? It's not like everybody was alone like him. Why should he care, if nobody else did? He _didn't_ care...

"DiNozzo?"

Gibbs' voice snapped Tony out of his thoughts like switching off a light. "Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked him over before waving with his hand, gesturing to come with him. Then he turned out and exited the room.

Tony blinked, but followed. "We've got a case?" Silence from Gibbs. Tony frowned. "And how did you get in?" After all Tony was alone in his own apartment. He hadn't told Abby about the letter, he'd waited for her to leave before opening it, so it couldn't be Abby that ordered Gibbs to check up on him and on his own Gibbs wouldn't butt in like that in someone's life.

Gibbs stared. Tony sighed. Except, Gibbs _would_. Best defense is a good offense. "You picked my lock?"

"We've got a case," Gibbs said simply before leaving the apartment with the apparent expectation that DiNozzo would follow.

Tony was flustered for a moment, before grabbing the backpack he had tossed in the hallway, slipping into his shoes and taking his keys. He locked the doors and skipping the elevator and taking the stairs managed to be down on the ground floor only few seconds behind Gibbs.

Ten minutes later they were at the Navy Yard. Another five minutes later the elevator doors opened to the gym. Something clicked in Tony's brain. "I'm the case?"

"No," Gibbs said exiting the elevator. "Whatever you've got going on is the case," and he was heading for the locker room.

The precious few moments it took Tony to get over his astonishment, the elevator doors almost closed. He slapped himself at the back of the head for slow reaction and trudged in his boss' footsteps.

They were in the box ring by the time Tony felt like speaking up again. "What makes you think I've got anything going on?"

It took Gibbs less than thirty seconds to lay him down. The boss didn't say anything, just stared meaningfully. At least, Tony assumed that there was meaning, something along the lines _'Need I say more'_ even though the man had yet to say anything since they exited the elevator. Not to mention that it's not uncommon for Gibbs to win a fight with him.

Tony faked a punch with his right and delivered a weaker one with his left. _'Functional mute'_ he remembered the description of Gibbs he gave to Saleem. Twelve seconds later he was back on his ass.

The gym wasn't empty though it was Saturday. _'There are a lot more people with demons out there than just Tony DiNozzo,'_ he thought to himself even though he wished it was just him and Gibbs here. He knew that the others weren't in the least bit interested in watching how he got his ass kicked by his boss, but still it felt like they were prying into his life too much. Then again, wasn't he making a fuss over nothing? Absentmindedly he also wondered whether Gibbs would tire of kicking his ass, before he got enough.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Two hours later Tony had enough. He had bruises on bruises. He called Gibbs to stop and was fairly disappointed when his boss did relax and hop off the boxing platform. Tony still didn't feel like talking and he had kind of hoped that Gibbs would manage to beat out of him what he couldn't say out of his own free will, but apparently that wasn't the case.

Half hour and a shower later Tony was buttoning up his shirt and the words suddenly tumbled out of his mouth, "I have a brother," he confessed.

Gibbs shrugged on his jacket. "Alright."

"I don't know where he is. I don't know who he is. I don't even know how old he is. All I have is a name," finally he felt like saying it all aloud. "What the hell am I supposed to do with _a name_?" he hissed in frustration, though finally, _finally_ he felt like he could breathe ever since he'd first found out.

"We'll figure it out," Gibbs said simply and Tony felt like he had never heard more comforting words in his life.

Tony slammed his locker closed and smiled. "Thanks, boss."

"Yeah, well, next time don't wait for me to get tired of your screw ups to beat a confession out of you," Gibbs said brushing past him.

Tony felt his jaw open in amazement. "You knew?" he cried accusingly following his boss.

Gibbs smirked and slipped in to the elevator making sure that Tony didn't make it. To tell the truth he began suspecting that something was up when Tony was uncharacteristically _alright_ with his father's death. He knew that the younger agent cared for his father more than the man deserved. So he'd had McGee check out if DiNozzo had been up to something during his impromptu holidays and the tickets to Long Island told him all he needed to know. Well, it told him most, the rest was just good guesswork and ability to keep a straight face when Tony finally confessed. After all, it wouldn't do if Tony started to think that he could con his boss without Gibbs finding out about it.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Anybody see G today?" Sam asked when nobody else did. Kensi glanced up from the papers she'd been going through and shrugged. Then she cast a quick look at the clock.

"We're barely starting. Maybe he's late," she said. She knew she was late on occasion, so was Sam. _Everybody_ was late one time or another.

Sam shook his head. "No. Not G. He's never late," he told her starting to feel the far too familiar coldness of dread settle in his bones. "If he's late he races like a maniac and still is on time. Something's wrong."

Kensi stood. She really didn't think that something could have already happened to G at the very start of a work day when they didn't even have a case, but she had learned to trust Sam a long time ago, especially, when Sam had a hunch about something concerning G. The ex-seal was a walking radar of _'Trouble – G' _with five def-con levels implemented as necessary.

"Well.. Have you called him yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's not picking up. I've called three times already."

Kensi worried her bottom lip between her teeth. That didn't sound like G. He knew how important it was to pick up the phone when called. She said as much to Sam, but then again, she was only saying out loud what they both already knew. She grit her teeth. G _better_ be just late so she could sick Sam on him for worrying them.

Sam didn't even use speed-dial, even though G was his first number on it. He pressed the buttons faster than the speed dial connected. He waited a full minute for the phone to be picked up, before dropping his end of the line. "That's it. Let's go ask Eric to trace it," he decided.

Kensi nodded in agreement and tagged along as Sam raced up the stairs to the operations room.

Sam was already barking orders at Eric who luckily didn't take affront about the tone when Sam's phone insistently rang out in the otherwise quiet operations center. The phone was out of his pocket and in his hand in less than three seconds. It took another two for Sam's brain to register the caller and grit his teeth in barely suppressed frustration.

"G! What the hell is wrong with you, man? I've been calling you..."

"I'm sorry. Are you Sam?" a completely foreign voice questioned interrupting Sam's tirade.

"Who are you and where's G?" Sam's tone immediately changed. Eric looked up at Sam and brought the GPS signal's location up on the big screen. Kensi was seemingly casually leaning against the table, but Sam knew better. She was coiled as a snake ready to strike, just... There was no one to strike at here. G and whoever had him where out in the LA streets.

The man on the other end of the line nervously licked his lips. "I'm an emergency medical technician. This phone was found on the man we recovered from a recent traffic accident. Your number was the last one dialed."

"Fuck," Sam cursed. "How is he?" G got into far too many accidents far too often for Sam's liking. He didn't even start on thinking about how this was the second time G was in a car crash within the space of two damn days. He wasn't even about to start thinking that G was on that damn motorcycle. He just wasn't..

"We're taking him to hospital for tests. We will know for sure when they're done."

"Which hospital?" he asked biting back another curse. If G was conscious, he wouldn't have let anyone take him to a hospital. G hated hospitals with passion. Which could only mean that G wasn't in any capacity to con his way out of a ride in the ambulance. "Right," Sam said grabbing the nearest piece of paper and writing down the name of the hospital. "Where was the accident?" Sam wrote down the intersection. "Thanks," he said before dropping his end of the line.

Eric and Kensi shared a glance. Sam barked out orders and dropped the paper with the addresses besides Eric's keyboard, "Eric, inform Hetty. Check if there's any cameras in that intersection – I want to know what the hell happened. I'm going to the hospital. Kensi..."

"I'm coming with you," she stated.

"In your own car," Sam added. G might drive like a maniac, but Sam didn't believe for one moment that this was _just an accident_. Accidents didn't happen to G. Trouble did.

Kensi frowned. "You think..." She didn't finish as she caught Sam's dark gaze. Apparently Sam did think that there was something fishy and if there was, and then nothing would tear the ex-seal from G side which meant that, "My car. Got it."

"Status updates as soon as you've got them," Sam said over his shoulder to Eric as he was leaving the ops center.

"Sure!" Eric called back distractedly as he was simultaneously calling Hetty and putting up a search for security cameras within the vicinity of the intersection where G had the accident.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"I promise you, we will do everything…," Abby reconsidered her choice of words. "Anything! I mean, like_, really_ anything to find your lost brother. Promise! Right, guys?"

McGee had been solemnly nodding along Abby's speech and didn't need the tech to glare at him to hasten to wordily express his complete devotion to this matter. Ziva being a smart former Mossad agent that she was swore with straight face to do even the impossible to help - not that she wasn't ready to help anyhow, but she threw the impossible/improbable thing in just for Abby. She didn't want to get on Goth's bad side, because as fluffy as Abby could be she also could kill a person and leave no forensic evidence. Honestly. Abby often said so.

Nobody glared at Gibbs or prodded him, but the Senior Supervisory Agent clapped on Tony's back which spoke volumes to everyone present.

"Thanks, boss," Tony said and patted his own shoulder as if to make sure that it was still there.

There was an awkward pause of silence where once everybody was done assuring themselves and Abby that they would indeed do their best to help Tony – nobody was doing anything yet. Mostly they were unsure where to start with the little info that they had, but hesitation disappeared once Gibbs particularly expressively barked "Get to work."

"I'll check the paperwork. If there's anything amiss, I'll find it," McGee said turning in his chair to face the computer.

"I'll help. We're doing that in my lab," Abby added dragging McGee out of his chair by the sleeve of his shirt. He barely managed to cancel all the programs he had already opened.

"I'll call my contacts," Ziva announced.

"I'll be…" Tony started unsure how he was going to finish that.

"Going down to have Ducky check you out," Gibbs finished for his agent.

"Why?"

"You were coughing. I'm not having you break down in the middle of the case just because you couldn't be bothered to take a pill against the flu."

"I don't have the flu!" Tony protested. "I feel fine! I've never even had the flu and …" He could feel a little tickle in his throat, but swallowed over it and continued, "I'm not coughing!" He took a dramatic pause and with wide and open eyes in a completely heartfelt tone he added, "I need to help."

"You were coughing last week. You go down to Ducky and help by staying healthy," Gibbs wasn't going to be persuaded.

"Boss," Tony resorted to whining.

"Or Abby will drag you," he expressively nodded towards the elevators where Abby was dragging McGee with her in a completely undignified manner. In a way it was amazing how the slim girl manhandled Tim, on the other hand it was completely terrifying.

Tony looked where Gibbs was looking and swallowed hard and then thought better about arguing. "Gotcha Boss."

"Good," Gibbs approved before turning on his heel and jogging up the stairs to the MTAC.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Tony sat on the stone cold slab and thought about sitting on it and felt like laughing about it, but since Ducky had studied human behavior and was qualified to do emotional autopsies or whatever their scientific title, Tony decided that he'd rather keep some feelings to himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ducky, but knowing how overprotective his friends could get, he'd rather his every move wasn't over-analyzed.

As it was sometimes Tony thought that Gibbs enjoyed as much beating the crap out of him on the mat as fussing over him at other times. But Tony didn't like to think about it like that, after all _a nice Gibbs_ wasn't Gibbs. So he stuck to the official version that he was here so that he wouldn't be sick, so that he wouldn't screw up. Again.

On a completely unrelated side note it did make Tony feel all nice and warm inside that his team cared for him and was taking care of things, of course this feeling was buried under a mountain of righteous anger about the fact that he'd been sent away while the others did whatever it is they do to get results. Tony wanted to be in the middle of it all – he wanted, no, he needed to know first.

Ducky gave him a flu shot and no, Tony did not want to know why a coroner would have flu shots, and then he was free. Well, as free as one could be while pretending to listen to Ducky.

Halfway through what Tony was sure was a great story about Timbuktu, he finally managed to get two words in-between, "I can go?" Alright, it was three words, Tony felt like a hero.

"Well, if you absolutely have to, because I do recommend rest for you, young man. Seriously, Tony, you…"

"Thanks, Ducky!" Tony said decisively, grabbed his jacket and was out of the door before another word could be said. He climbed the stairs, because he felt that the elevator would be too slow and, honestly, he was pretty sure that know he knew how a control freak felt like on a daily basis. He needed status updates – ASAP.

Even if there was nothing new. Even if there was nothing he could do, he needed to be in the middle of it all and at least pretend that he was actually accomplishing something, because to think of it – he had a brother. It was such a wondrous thought he could hardly wrap his head around it, because while the wills of his parents and their wishes really did mean very little to him, the fact that there was another person to whom he was related in the world and that this person might actually be a decent human being… Well, it was a bit overwhelming which might account for the fact that after his ill-advised run he had to conclude that he really had a bit of a cold. He was certain he had coughed up a lung by the time Ziva reached him with a glass of warm water.

"Are you alright, Tony?"

Tony was a bit red in the face, but that didn't stop him from replying, "I just donated a lung to the floor. I'm fantastic." Then he gulped down the water and felt marginally better. "I really am," he continued much more confidently. "I'll grow a new one. I'm a Timelord."

Ziva just shook her head. "If you're quite done, we've found something."

Tony immediately straightened. "Wha…" He cleared his throat and tried again. "What?"

Being perfectly aware of her surroundings as she was trained to be, Ziva heard the light ding of the elevator and correctly assumed that it's McGee who had called from Abby's lab barely a minute earlier. Adopting some of Tony's flair for dramatic, she pointed to the elevator door just as it opened and McGee rushed out.

Tony frowned, "How did you…"

"Oh, great, you're all here. Where's Gibbs?" Tim asked surveying the whole floor.

Tony felt like a ping pong ball in the hands of talented players. "Just tell me and tell Gibbs later. Now, probie!"

Tim blinked, didn't think about it, shrugged and opened the file in his hands for reference, "Right. So Abby and me dug through some of the paperwork and most of the personal stuff that you're father had drawn up is pretty damn airtight, however the company's papers, now there… You just can't be a bastard, manage a huge corporation and make no mistakes," Tim smirked.

"What did you find?" Ziva asked before Tony exploded.

"You told us that your father said he'll give everything away to distant relatives, right?" McGee asked glancing at Tony.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, it looks like he's giving away the corporate to his XO. We dug up that there's some hush-hush conditions concerning it and Abby's trying to get to the bottom of it, but it looks fishy."

"What does it have to do with fish?" Ziva questioned.

"It's a colloquialism. See, when something seems suspicious…"

"Forget it!" Tony interrupted them. This is exactly why he had been so hesitant to let his team in on it. He _had_ to know first. He just had to, so that he could at least try to make some sense of all of this and now – all the other people knew things, even if it was just tidbits of information and lots of maybes instead of certainties to them – it was important to Tony, but it seemed like they didn't realize it. Everything went on as usual and for Tony this was anything but usual. "I will personally explain it to you later. Again. Just tell me what you all know."

"Well, that's it, actually," McGee said. "A bunch of papers. Some of it looks suspicious, but there might not be anything to it, but a couple of greedy guys."

"Well, I found the investigator that Mrs. DiNozzo hired. He's dead. He was killed and I already reviewed the police file – I think it was done by a professional."

Tony nodded his mind already changing gears. "Where did he live? Are there any records left that we could go over? Look for some clues?"

"I already checked. No. Everything was destroyed in the fire. The same one in which the investigator died."

Tony cursed. "How convenient." He took a calming breath. "So, we've got nothing." His molar hurt from grinding his teeth. He didn't believe his father; he didn't want to believe his father – there was no way that a man with little friends and only what money could buy could have destroyed every piece of evidence that could lead Tony to his last living relative, to the only blood that might lend some truth to the whole 'blood runs thicker than water' thing. It just can't have happened. Everybody deserves at least one fairy tale ending in life – Tony wished with all his heart to find his brother.

"Eames Rogers," Gibbs said rounding a corner.

"What?" Tony decided, then and there, that he needed to come up with a new question word. This one was getting old really fast.

"The name of your mother's lover. I assume that he's also the father of your brother."

"How did you find that out?" Tony asked.

"Is he alive?" Ziva was more pragmatic.

Gibbs ignored Tony and answered to Ziva. "No."

"Well, what good does another dead guy…" McGee started, but abruptly stopped once Gibbs glared at him. "I will find out everything about that guy from birth to his last minute including his last supper," he vowed and hastily pressed the elevator button to get down back to Abby.

"Abby's busy. At your own desk."

"Right, Boss," Tim nodded and resisted the nervous urge to swallow. He pushed past Tony and went to his computer.

"Ziva…"

"I'm sure there are some leads about the killer, if not I'll talk to Abby, a professional would have to be paid and it would have been a pretty sum that can be traceable. There also might be evidence connecting to the investigator's death," she promptly said and just as efficiently turned on her heel and went back to her desk.

"Boss…," Tony said tentatively. He knew he had lost it a bit the moment before, but Gibbs didn't seem angry. Then again, Gibbs rarely seemed anything and then he smacked you on the back of your head when you were least expecting it.

"We'll find him, Tony," Gibbs said in what was probably his most reassuring tone. It wasn't reassuring to Tony.

"Right, Boss."

"Meanwhile, keep it together," Gibbs added and smacked Tony on the back of the head. "Also, Abby said she needed you so go down and don't forget the Caf Pow."

"Yes, Boss," Tony said feeling reassured and walked away. His lips slowly twisted into a grin. If his tension mood swings would stop, he was sure that everything would be perfect. After all, with his team on the case – his father had never stood a chance. He was pretty sure of it. At least for the moment.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Sam and Kensi were speeding across the town and Eric managed to manage the traffic lights in their way as well as review the security tape from a corner convenient store on the street were G crashed. The SUV that made G crash was plate-less and with tinted windows and apparently the bad guys had thought it to be enough, however nobody tinted the front-window unless they wanted to be caught by cops five minutes from the drive-way, and even though the camera was on the opposite side of the street from the SUV, when Eric's program was done with the still image from the camera (which didn't take all that long with the impressive computer power of the Operations Center) the face of the man sitting beside the driver was clearly visible.

Eric ran a search on the face and it took less than a minute for a result to pop out. He ran a red light in Sam' and Kensi' way and called them at the same time warning them to slow down.

"What is it, Eric?" Sam asked stopping before the red traffic light. It had been eight minutes since he and Kensi left the OSP Headquarters.

"Okay, first – the accident was no accident. Callen was run down by an SUV. Second – it was done by local gang-bangers, and newbies at that. It's a new gang formed by outcasts of the two existing ones in that neighborhood and so far they hadn't popped on any law enforcement radars as a gang, there's a ton of minor offenses though so they're in the system. The guy I identified is called FunnyJ, actual name – Bob Jennings and he's the right hand man to the gang leader called Detailer, actual name – Stewart Reynolds."

"Got location?" Sam asked tapping his fingers against the wheel.

"I have the address to a bar that Reynolds' father owned. The bar went bankrupt a decade ago and the building belongs to a bank, but because of the neighborhood nobody's paid much attention to it. It's considered abandoned."

"Ok, thanks, Eric," Sam said. "Kensi – go check it out. Don't go in. Just cruise around. See if you can find the SUV that crashed G – Eric, send her the details. Be careful and meet you back at the HQ after I get G."

"On it," Eric muttered, already typing.

"G won't stay at the hospital?" Kensi asked checking the coordinates Eric had sent to her GPS, then she changed her lane. Then on her on-board screen a black and fairly undistinguished SUV showed – a few more pictures from the same angle followed.

"I know G. He's probably gonna be waiting by the entrance door by the time I get there," Sam replied.

Kensi tsk-ed, but said nothing more. The traffic lights finally went green.

"See you back at work later," she said and turned right.

"Be careful," he replied and drove straight.

Eric noted the end of the conversation and closed the call.


	3. Fathers

_**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I don't own NCIS Los Angeles.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Fathers<strong>

"G!" the exclamation fell from Sam's lips rather unexpectedly. He was an excellent agent and therefore extremely good at keeping his feeling contained, but G just rattled him in every possible way – he had never had a more irritable, accident-prone, unfortunate, short-sighted, careless and brilliant partner before. He gritted his teeth and tried to appear more angry than worried when he walked in G's hospital room.

"Sam, I'm fine," G said automatically and continued buttoning the new shirt he'd managed to sweet-talk a nurse into buying for him in the hospital store.

"You've got a concussion and broken ribs, G," Sam diagnosed after a quick over-all look at G.

"You know my head's harder than that and the ribs are just bruised," G replied.

Before Sam could say something in turn – most likely something with a healthy dose of anger – a doctor walked in. "Here's you AMA form, Mr. Callen," he said handing the forms and a pen.

"You're not signing out," Sam said, his eyes narrowed and he briefly considered handcuffing G to the bed when G reached out for the forms.

"I'm fine, Sam," G said in a well-rehearsed tone and signed the documents.

Sensing that there was someone else who agreed with his medical opinion, the doctor hastened to say more, "All concussions are serious even the mild ones, Mr. Callen. If you leave the hospital you have to check back in a few days and those fractured ribs need medical attention as well..."

"You said 'bruised' G," Sam remarked in a dark tone, interrupting the doctor.

"And be careful, because if you get hit hard again – your spleen might tear or worse rupture. You really should stay here a while longer," the doctor continued.

G just rolled his eyes, handed the form back to the doctor and stood. He breathed shallowly so that the urge to wince wouldn't be stronger. "I'm fine," he repeated. The words seemed more familiar than his own name. He winced. Sometimes the fact that he had no name blindsided him like a truck from a rarely used service-road.

Sam hated sounding like a nagging chick, but sometimes there just was no other way to get through to G. And sometimes there was. If Sam was a more vindictive guy, he would have chuckled evilly at the thought. "Tell that to Hetty," he muttered.

G who was already at the door didn't hesitate in informing Sam that, "I heard that!"

"Good," Sam replied and followed him out the door.

The doctor feeling altogether unsatisfied at how the situation had turned out also left the room, shrugged his disappointment off and went to inform the nurses that patient from room 324 had left and that the room needed to be cleaned and prepared for the next idiot.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Sam winced when G sat his muddy, bloody, LA street-sweeping ass in the leather seat of his car. Except for the shirt (and Sam had an inkling how G had gotten his hands on that) G looked like road-kill. He sighed, but didn't say anything. He also resisted the urge to ask G one more time if he was okay.

"It's okay. Promise," G said without even thinking about the words. The reassurances fell from his lips with a practiced ease. "Now, let's get to work. I need a change of clothes."

Sam frowned, but decided to adhere to the old saying that silence is golden. He turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the parking lot in front of the hospital. He took a left turn on the street and kept a careful eye on his surroundings. "Eric said that your accident wasn't an accident."

G lowered the backrest of his seat a little so it'd be easier for him to sit up. "I had the same idea. He found a camera there?"

"Convenient store on the corner," Sam replied keeping his eyes on the street.

"Anything identifiable from the footage?"

"Yeah, a passenger. It was an up-start gang hit. Anything you wanna tell me G?" now Sam did spare a glance to look at G.

G frowned and thought for a moment. "No, not particularly."

"Ok," Sam said agreeably.

The silence that followed didn't last long. "Except... What's with my bike? Nobody at the hospital knew and I don't really remember much after crashing – did the SUV ride over it or is it okay?"

Sam gripped the wheel tighter. "It's in evidence lock-up and it's smashed FUBAR. No way you're getting on that thing again."

G looked at Sam and saw straight through his partner. "Guess I'll just have to buy a new one..."

"G!" Sam growled in warning, but didn't get to say more, because G's phone which had been in the breast pocket of his leather jacket (which the same nurse who bought him shirt had dumped in the bin) had miraculously survived the accident.

G frowned at the unknown number and indicated Sam to be silent. "Yeah," he said picking up the phone.

"Hello, son," was the reply on the other end.

Unsure what this was about G did what he did best, he went along with it. "Hi, Dad," he greeted right back looking at Sam with expression that conveyed his confusion. Sam pulled over and looked right back; he was concerned. Again. G put the call on speaker.

"You're in danger," the man on the other end continued.

"One can drown in a bowl of soup, Dad. Danger is overrated," G replied. "Unless of course you want to tell me something I don't know?"

"Your past is catching up with you and so with me and everyone who's near to you."

"Come on, Dad, past is the past. What's with it?" he replied flippantly in complete opposite to his actual feelings on the subject.

"I have to go."

"Wait, Dad, reunion's no reunion without coffee. How about we meet n greet?"

"I'm sorry, son, I can't speak more at the moment. I'll call you again. I'll explain everything – as much as I know, anyway. I know you don't believe me now, but please – be careful – that's all I ask."

"Dad..." G called out, but the call was already terminated on the other end. "Fuck."

"G..." Sam started tentatively.

"I don't know him, Sam. Never heard the guy before, I think," G replied tiredly.

"Do you think it's your father?" he asked. It didn't matter that the likelihood of that being so was one against millions; what mattered to Sam was what G thought about it.

"Probably not," G said quickly. "Maybe." The _'I just don't know' _wasn't spoken, but was understood.

"Right," Sam powered the car up again. "Let's get to Ops Center. Kensi's probably back and maybe Eric's found something new. Besides you _need_ a change of clothes."

"Hey, the shirt is new. It cost me twenty bucks," G protested.

"The shirt is the only thing that's new in that seat, and I bet that ten of that twenty went for the service," Sam replied with half a smile finally appearing on his face.

G just rolled his eyes.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Meanwhile in the Ops Center Eric was happily typing away and monitoring several programs at a time, and completely in his own element when something beeped. He frowned and slid his chair to monitor few paces away to check the disturbance. It was an activity report from one of the crawler bots that he had on the Net. It was designed to look for specific keywords and notify when found. He clicked to read the report.

The further he read, the more he frowned. Finally he grabbed the keyboard and started typing. The pace of his fingers on the keyboard was directly proportional to the amount of frowning and muttering that he did. A few seconds later the computer beeped again and this time it was a small, single message informing him that there's been a server malfunction and all data has been lost. Eric cursed filthily and from the bottom of his heart just as Hetty walked in the Ops Center.

"Something the matter Mr. Beal?"

Eric turned to face Hetty. "Yes, one of the bots on the Net that I have just ran across keyword '' which means that a file with those specific letters has been opened that hasn't been open before, because everything else has been vetoed and the most I got is that the file was on a government server and that it was a closed court file. I can try to recover some info about who wanted it open, but the digital file itself is gone with all the information detailing it so I doubt there's a way to identify it to recover the physical evidence. There was some trigger virus in the file opening sequence and it crashed the entire server the file was on – everything there is just gone," Eric spoke quickly barely drawing a breath. Then he breathed a deeply.

"Do what you can to find out who else wanted a look at this file and anything else you may recover," Hetty instructed calmly. "And do remember to breathe, Eric."

"Yes, Hetty," he replied obediently, still inwardly cursing at himself for not being more careful in following up with the report. Things like this didn't happen to him!

He spun in his chair and his fingers were already flying over the keyboard. He would find out how the files erased, who else opened them and all in all he would dig up every shred and bit of data that was left over even if he had to search in every back-up log and system in the country to come up with something, anything.

Finding out who else had been snooping around – and what a relief it was to realize that it wasn't just his mucking about that raised the red flags in the file encryption – was surprisingly easy. By the time Sam, G and Kensi walked in the Ops Center together – he already had good news to go with the bad ones.

He let Kensi speak first. She told them that, yeah, somebody was definitely using the bar as a hang-out and that there was an SUV parked two blocks away that approximately matched the stills from the camera footage and had a smashed right headlight, and fresh scrapes on paint and the grill that it could be the same car from the accident. She didn't have anything more.

Then Eric told them his story. "But!" he exclaimed after he told them about the total data loss. "While it'll take a while..."

"Define 'a while'," Sam interrupted.

"Several hours," Eric replied. "Possibly until the morning," he added a moment later. "Anyway, while it'll take a while for my program to scrape together what's left of the file, I did find out who helped me to trip the wire on the file. It was us!" seeing the confused faces around him, he hastened to explain more. "Not me-us, but us-us. NCIS. The headquarters in DC to be precise. I've no idea what they were looking for – unauthorized at that," he left out the part that he didn't have an official authorization to peek in those files either, "but it was both of us snooping around there together that triggered the hidden domino-type complete crash-down virus which was nothing special and if I'd just known it was there..." Eric scrunched his face and clenched his fist to emphasize his feelings on the matter. It just rankled him that he'd been so blindsided by it that by the time he'd reacted there had been almost nothing he could do.

"It's okay, Eric," Sam placated.

"Do you think it has to do with your...," Kensi paused unsure how to phrase correctly what happened to G in the morning.

"You don't?" G asked her right back. "What interests me is what's DC' interest in all this," he bit his lip thinking fast. "Ok, I'll go inform Hetty – if this is about me personally, she'll want to speak to Vance in private. Eric – those gang-bangers would have to have been paid; check if there's a paper trail. Sam, Kensi – you have just acquired a desirable person to kill in an accidental way. Find out how much it would cost."

Sam didn't look happy at having to go, but if he couldn't trust Hetty and Eric to push G around to take it easy then he supposed he should have stuck with his first plan of handcuffing G to hospital bed. He nodded at Kensi and they went.

G leaned against the large table in the middle of the Op Center and took a couple of shallow breaths. Standing upright hurt. Speaking a lot hurt too.

"You have to remember to breathe," Eric advised smartly echoing Hetty's earlier words to him.

G snorted at that.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Gibbs… You want to explain to me why I got a call from the NCIS OSP Operations Manager in LA asking me what is my interest in their Special Agent in Charge?" Vance asked politely. He was always polite after all, that didn't mean that he wasn't pissed though. As a Director he didn't like not being informed about the cases his teams were working on and Gibbs as a rule forgot to tell him things on regular basis.

"No idea, Director," Gibbs replied truthfully.

"So you probably also have no idea how an entire server with archived and sealed court cases of the New York Supreme Court crashed?"

"Server?" Gibbs blinked pretending to understand less than he did.

"Gibbs, I want a straight answer. What are you working on?"

"A case of black-mail on Navy personnel," Gibbs promptly replied. After all as an NCIS agent Tony was Navy personnel, technically anyway and even though his father was dead - blackmail is blackmail.

"And what's that got to do with Callen?" Vance asked suddenly longing for a toothpick to chew on.

"As far as I know, nothing, sir," Gibbs replied with the same unerring and annoying honesty as before.

"Then I suggest you find out or I will give Hetty your number next time she has any questions," Vance said and there was no humor in his tone when he presented his threat. Hetty might be his subordinate, but he did not want another conversation where he had to defend his inquiry on her agent especially when he had no idea that there WAS an inquiry in the first place.

"Will do, Director."

Somehow Gibbs' cooperation irritated the Director even more. "And then you'll explain to her what this is all about. And I _don't_ have to tell you to hurry up – I hear another SUV took a go at Callen this morning."

"Is he alright?" Gibbs asked, his demeanor changing instantly.

"No," Vance replied frankly. "But he's up and about as usual," he said relaxing back into his chair.

Gibbs nodded and taking that as the end of the conversation, turned on his heel and left.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Hello, Walter," Tony grinned a big, white shit-eating grin.

"Anthony," the man greeted in return, though his expression conveyed that he'd rather be shaking hands with homeless people and risk getting fleas.

"Long time no see, huh?" Tony shamelessly sprawled in the expensive leather couch that adorned the waiting room before Walter's no doubt impressive office; after all, Walter was the XO of his father.

"What do you want, Anthony?" Walter asked straight to the point. "The lawyers informed me that you signed everything away so what is this… You realized what you lost and want to…"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no…," Tony interrupted the man. He extended his hand and rudely pointed with his finger, "It's you who thinks that this is the answer to every question ever asked. Me? No. No. No, no, no, no, no… No - has a nice ring to it, don't you think? No, no, no, no, no…"

Walter gritted his teeth and walked past DiNozzo. "If you don't mind…," he walked up to his office doors and unlocked them. "Some of us have work to do," he was just about to walk in when DiNozzo moved faster than Walter would have expected and pushed him forward through the door and followed before closing the door and turning the lock.

"I do mind," Tony grinned again leaning against the locked door as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Walter's face scrunched up in annoyance. "Unlock the door or I'll call security. I don't care what the hell you want."

"But I am security!" Tony protested and dug into his breast pocket brandishing his shield. "See? Federal agent!" He pocketed his license and the grin still hadn't left his face. "Besides I'm DiNozzo and papa's dead. I bet you didn't tell them yet the happy news lawyers gave you. Nobody's going to lift a finger."

"Are you threatening me?" Walter asked outraged.

"No!" Tony laughed. "Not yet, anyway," he added a moment later.

Walter backed further into the office and went to the cabinet to pour himself a shot of whiskey. "What do you want?"

"Well, a glass of what you're having won't be a bad start," Tony replied.

Walter glared, but poured Tony a shot too. He drew the line at handing the glass though. He took his and backed to his desk. He felt more in control of the situation when he sat down in his expensive leather chair that was ergonomically suited especially to him and cost what some people earned in a month.

Tony threw a glance at the glass and shrugged. "Your hospitality sucks," he took it and dropped in a chair on the opposite side of the massive desk.

Walter was annoyed at the constant misdirection. "You always were an air-headed clown," he muttered before downing his drink. "Why are you here?"

"I'm hurt!" Tony exclaimed. "You don't want to catch up with a son of an old and regrettably deceased colleague?"

"Even your father didn't want to catch up with you. Why the hell should I?"

"You're a world of hurt today, you know that?" Tony asked deliberately slowly blinking and making huge teary eyes at Walter. His goal was to get the man so unbalanced and angry that when Tony finally got to the point that he'd get his answer. After all, he'd managed to irritate the Director of Mossad into confession in _his own _interrogation so who was Walter?

Walter gritted his teeth. "Unlike you I have a company to run. Tell me what the hell you want so I can get rid of you."

Tony put one of his legs over another and just got more comfortable in the chair. "Tell me… There's one thing I've always wondered about…"

When the silence stretched, Walter broke and asked sharply, "What?"

Tony ignored the tone. "You see, my Dad's not the type to have friends so you can't claim to have been best buds with him or anything. You're not a relative or a dog shelter either – though he did promise to donate some to them which it turns out he hasn't – imagine the man? He took a candy or dry food, or canned… I'm not sure what dogs eat, anyway, he dangled a bone and took it away from poor, starving puppies, I'm so glad I don't have to call the man…"

"Is there a point somewhere Anthony?"

Walter looked ready to strangle him, but Tony didn't feel like he'd gone far enough, so he continued. "I'm trying to be subtle," he remarked. "See, I know a lot about 'don't ask – don't tell' since I work for NCIS and all, so were you and my Dad lovers? 'Cause you know – then I just have to ask, because he always seemed to have something permanently lodged in his… Did one your games get carried away a little too far? Or rather deep…"

Tony dived out of his chair to avoid the glass that Walter threw at him. "You - insolent, useless, little brat! Your father was right to disown you! You and your mother were nothing, but constant problems. If you'd know how many times I had to listen about _'that whore this'_ and _'that whore that'_, and _'that brat…'_, I deserve this company, because I kept it going. I! While your father was busy with his little revenge routines and courts, and other lowlifes it was I who took care of the corporate. The company is mine and nothing here is for you. I don't care what you want. You are leaving! NOW!" Walter roared at the end of his rant.

Tony scrambled to his legs. "Tell me more," he teased. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"I'll kill you!" Walter shot up on his legs and barreled towards Tony as an infuriated bull, but even though the man's bulk was rather massive and his height similar to Tony's – it took Tony exactly three seconds to twist Walter's arms and slam the man face first into the closest wall.

"Now that you've threatened and assaulted a federal agent, we can talk," Tony said calmly and pushed Walter harder against the wall to emphasize his point.

There was foam on Walter's mouth. Tony saw it and grimaced. Disgusting.

"I don't know anything," Walter said immediately.

"Oh, but you just admitted that you know quite a lot and unless you want me to put you under arrest, take you to the Navy Yard and place in a cell with nastiest sons of bitches I can find – you're gonna tell me everything," Tony grinned, though Walter couldn't see it – what with his face pressed into a wall.

"That's blackmail. It's illegal!" Walter protested.

Tony drew breath noisily. "I believe in your line of business it's called _leverage_."

Walter grumbled and Tony pushed him against the wall again to make him decide quicker.

"Fine! Fine! I'll tell you what I know, just let me go."

"Awesome!" Tony released Walter and backed away only to drop comfortably back in the chair. "Spill."

Walter shrugged and adjusted his shirt's collar. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know everything you know about my brother."

NCISXNCIS:LA

It was late. Eric's program was still running. Hetty said that as soon as DC will have anything to say – they'll speak up. Sam and Kensi came back without much to report – the gang had been too preoccupied with something to even consider their offer, they'd been turned out on their asses. Apparently the fact that G was still breathing had them scared – whether from law enforcement or their client, was yet to be figured out. All in all the day was over.

G lounged on the couch. He was waiting for Sam to finish up – Sam had insisted on giving him a ride home, and he was bored. Then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was the same number as before. He frowned and picked up the call. "Hiya, Dad."

The man on the other end sighed. "I know you're just humoring me, but it's damn good to hear you call me that."

"Well, Dad, it's good to hear from you again too," G easily fell in conversation. It was harder to rise from the couch with his busted ribs, but he managed it without making any audible noise. Then he hurried to the Ops Center.

"I can't speak for long."

G tapped Eric on the shoulder and motioned at his phone. Eric understood and immediately set up a trace.

"Come on, Dad. It's been long time no see. We should catch up."

"I know you're attempting to trace the call now. I need to speak with you in private."

"If you know that much, then you must know that that's not how it works," G said.

The man on the other end sighed, again. "I don't trust anyone!" he said, obviously stressed. "If there's anyone you trust – anyone you'd trust with your life, you may take them with you, but just one. Don't tell anyone else. You've got no idea how big this is."

"Okay," G agreed easily. "Tell me more."

"No," the man disagreed. "Later. I'll call you again."

Eric motioned that he needed more time to fully trace the call.

"Well, this is all very secretive. Tell me your name, at least. Who are you?" G stalled.

"I'm your Dad. No matter what and if you ever… I'm your Dad, no matter what, just know that. I have to go," and the call was just dropped.

It took G a full second to realize that the beeping sound meant that the call was over. He turned his gaze to Eric who winced and regretfully shook his head.

"Sorry. The program needed more time," he said. "Who was that?"

G stared at nothing in particular not sure how to react. "My father," he replied. "I think."

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed nearly dropping the keyboard that she was holding above McGee's head while McGee tried to reconnect all the wires on the computer.

"Abby... "

"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed again stalling.

Gibbs frowned. "Abby."

"Done!" McGee shouted and Abby hurriedly booted the computer and started talking fast at the same time.

"You see I, well, McGee and I found that while DiNozzo Evil Master-Mind appears to be clean on the outside – not everything that's clean shines, or.. I think it was not all that's gold shines. Anyway, he's not golden at all. I found sealed court cases that feature his name, but McGee tripped a deletion sequence when we opened it, so I really don't have much...," she finally took a deep breath.

Gibbs didn't say anything. He looked at Abby knowing that she'd know to get on with it.

"But I do have something! You're like psychic, Gibbs!" she grinned at him and put the keyboard on nearest flat surface so that she could type with all her fingers.

She put an additional program running before putting on display what was it that she knew. "You see, the data from the server is completely lost – I mean if we had computer power like nobody's business or ..." she caught Gibbs' gaze ".. or funding, but we don't so it's just what my genius and McGee can find."

"Hey!" McGee spoke up protesting.

"It's okay, we love you anyway," Abby replied. "Now while the court file is a dead end, we managed to find a paper trail, because, you know, DiNozzo EMM would need a lawyer, it's not like he'd represent himself, and he'd probably need a special lawyer not a company one – because I doubt the juicy court files with viruses are about corporate secrets."

"Actually, corporates are very protective of their secrets," McGee interjected.

Abby glared at him. They'd had enough setbacks as it was during this investigation. She wanted to find Tony's brother almost as much as Tony did and she wasn't letting anyone cast a shadow of doubt on any lead of hers. "But this has nothing to do with that! We dug up DiNozzo EMM's personal finance history up to the time he was conceived and there's a lot of dubious transactions and while we're not sure about most of them – I did find one that leads to a high-end lawyer that specializes in family laws."

"So that vanished file – that has anything to do with a crashed server?" Gibbs asked.

Abby bit her lip. She'd hoped that when she got to the good news part, Gibbs would have forgotten about the beginning. She should have known better.

"Which one?" McGee asked, before Abby could do damage-control.

"There are several?"

Abby nearly winced at the tone. And then she whacked McGee at the back of his head with a folded lab report.

"What was that for?" McGee asked more surprised than hurt.

Abby glared at him and McGee got the message fast. "Yeah, Gibbs... You see the court server is totally not out fault. Someone else was in there with us – I'm having a program running, it'll find out who, and for the other... You don't really want to know," Abby said.

"I don't?"

"Plausible deniability, Gibbs," she replied with straight face.

Gibbs was silent for a moment more just to make Abby sweat a little. He really didn't want to know more about the inner workings of her information-gathering or what piece of hardware got hurt in the way. "Give me the current address and name of that lawyer," he finally said a minute later.

Abby grinned, relieved, "Right away, Gibbs!"

NCISXNCIS:LA

Coming back from the friendly visit he paid to Walter, Tony ran into Gibbs. Literally. He winced and apologized, glad he hadn't spilled the coffee. He hadn't ran into Gibbs like this for years.

"Abby found something," Gibbs said composing himself and walking to their bullpen, not waiting for Tony to catch up.

"Already?" Tony asked lengthening his stride to catch up with Gibbs. "I gave her all the info I had just barely two hours ago. And I didn't have much. I never knew much about my parents."

Gibbs stopped and turned on his heel in the middle of their bullpen. Ziva hung up the phone and Tony stopped suddenly as not to run into his boss again.

"What you've got?" Gibbs asked to both of them and Ziva jumped to answer.

"Alright, before Abby retrieved McGee for …," she paused unsure how to put into words the fact that Abby had dragged McGee by the sleeve of his shirt (and almost by the ear too) away frantically saying something about viruses and servers, "_something_; he already had a file on Eames Rogers. Perhaps he can.."

"McGee's busy. Give me the basics."

"Alright. Eames Rogers was the younger of two sons of Joseph and Julianne Rogers. He had an older brother named Arthur. Joseph and Julianne died in a sailing accident when Eames was fourteen. He was raised by his brother who had been 19 at the time of their parents deaths. Arthur Rogers inherited his father's pharmaceutical company. Eames Rogers became a doctor – a general surgeon," Ziva recited glancing at the file in her hands. "Their family estate in North Carolina is a neighboring estate to the one of Tony's mother's family. It appears that Eames Rogers and Tony's mother went to the same private-school until Rogers went to college specializing in medicine and Tony's mother got married to the _then_ DiNozzo heir. There's no indication that Rogers contacted Tony's mother after he went to college. Arthur Rogers died when his private plane crashed in Alaska at about the time Eames Rogers finished his degree. After that Eames went to Africa to do some charity work until he was mauled by a lion in an unfortunate hunting accident After his death all personal wealth was donated to charity and the company was auctioned off and bought by another company that belongs to the corporate that your father owns," she finished carefully and glanced up at her friend and colleague who was in the middle of this mess.

"Lots of accidents for one family," Tony frowned.

"Well, all accidents appear to be just that accidents, but with Abby's help I've matched some of the dates with sizable transactions from corporate accounts and while the destination account is in Cayman Islands and there's no way to get more info about it... It's suspicious. Also just before the fire that killed the investigator Tony's mother hired and destroyed all evidence – there was another transaction worth a hundred thousand dollars. Trace of that also leads nowhere," Ziva admitted. "I've called my contacts, but so far haven't heard back from them."

"DiNozzo...," Gibbs turned to Tony knowing full well that his Senior Agent had something to add.

"I chatted with Walter. He's my father's XO and now the CEO of the company. Anyway, he didn't know much, but he did know that I have a half-brother and he had a name for us. Eugene Keelson. Apparently my father had mentioned the guy once or twice and said that the man, and I quote, _'better be worth the money'_," Tony said. "Abby's running a search on that name, I called her already from the office."

Gibbs frowned. Abby hadn't told him anything about doing something for Tony, then again Abby often covered or shushed things up for DiNozzo. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but since Abby did the same things for him, he wasn't really in a position to complain. "Abby had a name for me. It's a lawyer your father hired personally to handle some court cases that were sealed and are now gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Tony demanded letting his frustration get the best of him.

Gibbs looked hard at Tony. "Ask McGee," he said finally. "The name is for a lawyer that specializes in family law and he was paid out of DiNozzo Senior's personal accounts. The address..."

Gibbs was interrupted by the ringing of the phone on Tony's desk. Tony turned and grabbed the phone. The conversation was short and consisted of, "Yup."; "Yeah."; "Really?"; "Okay, thanks." on Tony's part.

He glanced up from the phone to look at Ziva and Gibbs. "Abby says that it was the OSP in LA that tripped the wire in the file with them. She also says that the only info she could find on Eugene Keelson was put out, once again, by the OSP in LA."

"The lawyer your father hired now has an address also in LA. He's lived there ever since the cases were sealed thirty three years ago."

"So..." Tony drawled. "Are we going to LA?"

Gibbs jerked his head. "Pack your bags," he agreed before walking past his team and rounding the corner to run up to the MTAC. He had a call to make and a Director to inform. He did however see Ziva reaching for her backpack, so he stopped on the stair platform, pulled his phone and called her.

"Yes?" Ziva dropped her backpack on her table and picked up her mobile.

"I meant just DiNozzo. I want you and McGee to stay here and monitor that Walter person. Something's not clean there. Also I want you to keep digging. On everything."

Ziva was dissatisfied, but still she replied dutifully, "Yes, Gibbs." She didn't like staying behind, especially when there were personal matters at hand. She was part of the team and she wanted to prove that by being there for them, not on the other coast. She took her backpack and dropped it back on the floor out of the way.

Tony just smirked.

NCISXNCIS:LA

It was 4 AM and for a change G was actually sleeping. His phone rang and he almost dropped out of Sam's couch when he reached for it. He grabbed it quickly and after a quick glance at the caller ID he picked it up and moved out of the living room towards the door. "Dad?"

Even though the man who called himself G's father called from the same phone number every time the phone was a pre-paid cell registered to a 90 year old black-male living in a retirement home in rural Pennsylvania. The phone also appeared to be of the older phone generations since Eric couldn't remotely access it, it didn't have a GPS locator and to make matters completely hopeless – no call had been long enough to complete a trace.

"Sorry to wake you, but you're running out of time. We have to talk," the man said.

G quickly weighed his options. Getting a call through to whoever was manning the Op Center tonight to initiate a trace that would most likely not be completed this time either might be correct procedure, but it also would be a waste of time. Waking up Sam might give G an extra opinion, but he knew his partner well enough to know that he didn't want the SEAL's skepticism at the moment. He could get everyone up, but at the same time G knew deep down that that wouldn't get him anything. They just didn't know enough and there was only one way to get somewhere further in this strange case. There were things that he just had to do by himself.

Besides it was Hetty who told him that 'extreme situations require extreme measures'. For G – this was an extreme situation, and only Sam would consider 'going in alone' as an 'extreme measure'.

"That's what I've been telling you for the past two conversations, Dad," somehow G just couldn't stop saying the word. 'Dad.'

"There's much you don't know. There's so much I have to tell you. In 90 minutes. On the Malibu Pier."

"How will I know you?" G asked.

"I'll know you. 90 minutes. Be careful."

"Sure. Now...," G started, but the call was already over. He gritted his teeth and pocketed his phone in his jeans which he hadn't gotten around to taking off before going to sleep. He'd been so exhausted he'd just dropped in the couch when Sam had taken him to his home instead of whatever motel happened along the way.

He walked quietly back into the house and grabbed his hoodie which was was thrown over the back of the couch. He took his shoes and glanced at the closed door of Sam's bedroom. It didn't seem that his partner had woken up. He tip-toed out of the house and closed the doors behind him. He pulled on his shoes and shrugged on the hoodie to keep the morning chill at bay and started to walk.

He intended to hail a cab as soon as he saw one, but for now he was content to walk.

NCISXNCIS:LA

G felt apprehension in his gut war with amusement when he glanced at his newest caller's ID. It was 5:15 AM. He wondered what had woken Sam up before his 6 AM routine and picked up the call.

"G where the hell are you, man?" Sam growled in the receiver.

"In a cab," G replied dutifully relaxing in the worn leather seat of the cab he'd managed to hail after walking for nearly an hour.

"You better tell me you're going to work so I can leave Hetty to deal with you."

"I _am_ going to work," G said grinning. "In a manner of speaking."

"What the hell is that supposed to … G tell me you're not doing something stupid," Sam sounded angry. And worried.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam. This is the only way," he explained calmly.

"No, G. No! This is stupid. This is not how we roll. We're a team remember? Now tell me where the hell are you!"

"Calm down, Sam. I'm just meeting a contact."

"Tell me where you are, you're not going in alone. Partners, remember?" Sam demanded.

"Sorry," G didn't sound sorry at all. "I'm on a strict schedule. Maybe next time."

"G!" Sam growled.

"See you at the Ops Center. Bye," G dropped the call and switched off his phone. He knew it wouldn't stop Eric from switching it back on and tracing him, but it would take time – as long as it took for Sam to wake up Eric and Eric get to the Ops Center and to get everything up and running since the night techs weren't qualified or trained to do more than keep things in shape and monitor them – but it would be enough time for G to get done with this meeting. Besides, he wasn't looking to disappear from his team, he was just looking to stall them a little.


	4. Rendezvous

_**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I don't own NCIS Los Angeles.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Rendezvous<strong>

Abby bounced in the bullpen. It was leaning towards evening and Tony's backpack was already slung over his shoulder, he was sitting on the edge of his desk and he was just waiting for Gibbs to come back from MTAC and then they would be on their way to LA.

Abby hugged Tony. "Be careful there. LA is full of trouble."

"Sure, Abs," Tony promised returning the hug. "Now," he released her. "Is this just a goodbye or have you found something else?"

Abby took a step back and squinted. "You're getting scary good at sniffing information. Yeah, I have something," she grinned. "One of my little crawlers going over your father's financial and legal paperwork found the way out of the maze and it lead to a warehouse in... LA. The warehouse belongs to a corporation that belongs to a company that is a sister-company to another one that's in a corporation that's owned by a corporation overseas that has a company and in a very, very roundabout way it leads back to your father's corporate. Anyway all the bills are paid by the company of a company of a company of a corporate..."

"Abby!" Tony cried out. "I got it!"

"Yeah, well it all lead to pretty much nothing until I checked the phone logs of that warehouse and.. Why would a warehouse need a phone/data line anyway? Anyway, there was just one call placed to it and it traced to a real life person – Carl Browning. He's also from LA. So you might want to check him out while you're there."

Tony grinned. "You're a genius! Thanks, Abby!" Then he winked and leaned in close, "How am I ever going to repay you for your services, oh, Mistress of the Dark?"

"Oh, just promise to take me out to dinner with that handsome brother of yours and we'll call it even!" she grinned back.

"Sure thing, Abs," Tony swore putting his left hand to his heart and saluting with his right.

NCISXNCIS:LA

G got out of the cab and walked towards the pier. It was half-six in the morning and not many people were out. There were two boats in water, one was a row boat with an elderly couple enjoying sunrise the other was a flatboat with a scruffy looking guy with glasses reading a fishing magazine. Nothing screamed an all out _'danger'_ at him, but he still felt on edge.

He shrugged and while not dismissing his instincts wrote down most of his paranoia to Sam's constant nagging.

He had already walked the pier there and back twice and was on his third round when he felt a presence walking up to him. He turned on his heel sharply to face whoever was trying to sneak up to him. His arm twitched, because of his instinct to go after the gun he had tucked against his back.

"Easy, son!" the man raised his hands in peaceful gesture.

G frowned and quickly assessed the man before him. The age seemed right. The height was similar to his, but, "Who the hell are you?" G demanded staring at the man's Asian features completely unlike his own.

"Your father," the man replied calmly. "Would you believe me if I said you take after your mother?"

G glared at the man and backed up a step. His limbs were loose and gun within easy reach though he wasn't quite ready to draw it yet. "Who the hell are you?" he repeated his question.

The man sighed. "I am Christopher Callen and I may not be your father by birth, but my wife and I... We chose you. You are our son, no matter everything else."

G opened and closed his mouth. He shook his head unable to form words. A moment later he composed himself, "Why should I believe you?"

"Because I'm telling you the truth," Christopher implored. "I tried hard, but I'm not sure I wasn't followed. You're in danger and there is much I have to tell you. Please, just listen."

"Why now?" G forced the words out of his mouth.

Christopher's eyes never strayed from G's face. "I'll tell you everything, just promise me you'll hear me out before reacting, okay?"

G frowned. "That means you're gonna tell me something I'm not going to like."

"There's nothing to like, son," Christopher said honestly. "But if you want to understand, you have to promise to listen."

"What makes you think I want that?" G asked daringly. Bravado seemed to be the last cover he had. This all was too close to home he had never really had. This all was too personal.

"You're here."

G turned his back to the empty ocean, keeping boats and other people on pier in his sight when he leaned against the railing. "Okay," he said a fair moment later. "Speak."

"You know about Amy, right?"

"She's my sister," G said uncertainly.

Christopher nodded. "That she was," he agreed. "Amy was our first child. Matilda – my wife – had difficult delivery with her and the doctors told us that we'd never have more children. But we loved children so.. When Amy was three we decided to adopt," he took a deep breath before continuing. "You were just fifteen days old when we first saw you and from that very first moment we knew that you'd be our son. You were home at us before your one month anniversary rolled around. You are our son."

"Then why did you leave me? Why did you leave Amy? Why are you telling me this now? What the hell happened?" G spoke quietly, but his words had force behind them; the kind that comes with anger and bitterness that's built up over the years.

"We had five fantastic years together," Christopher continued quietly and calmly, though his voice trembled slightly with the strength of memories of happier times. "We were a family and we never thought much about the adoption after it happened. Sure, it was a closed adoption, but then again most of them were like that at the time – you were completely our child, we didn't care about the people who were idiots enough to leave you. We never thought to care about all the secrecy about your birth parents, because if they wanted to stay gone – so gone I never even saw their names on paper... We weren't going to protest. You were just our baby. Ours and nobody else's."

Sometime during Christopher's speech G's anger had just bled away. "So, what happened?" he asked barely keeping his voice straight.

"You were five and Amy was eight going on nine – a big girl... One day I came home from work and the door to the house was open. I walked the house calling your names and Matilda's... I found my wife gutted on the floor in our kitchen. I didn't know then what I know now. I was in shock. I tried to stop her bleeding, I took in my hands the knife with which it turns out she'd been killed. I called the police and an ambulance," he paused swallowing. It was difficult to get all this out after so many years. "I only later realized how it came that they were at our house barely a minute after I called."

G watched as the man with the fishing magazine never seemed to turn a page.

"I was being pushed into the police car when I first thought of you, kids. I think I went into a frenzy and pushed around a few cops, because they decided that now that I've finished off my wife I want to go after you too," Christopher pressed his hands against his face for a moment to compose himself. "It turned out that you weren't in the house. Matilda had never picked Amy up from school or you from kindergarten. I never saw either of you again until now."

"Why did the cops assume you killed your wife?"

"It seems that minutes before I came, Matilda had called 911. She had told them that her husband was coming at her. That I was trying to kill her. It was because of her call that the cops were there that fast."

"Why would she do that?" G asked not taking his eyes off the man in the flatboat. There was something suspicious about him.

"I'm guessing they threatened her. Threatened you and Amy. Whatever the reason she did that – it doesn't matter. They killed her anyway."

"And you got blamed," G added.

"Yeah. I was sentenced with life and you kids were pushed into foster system."

"How did you get out?" G would be lying if he said that he didn't believe the other man.

"About ten years ago some new evidence came in. I was apologized and released. I still knew though that whoever had done this to our family was still out there. Still gunning for us for whatever reason so I disappeared. Off the grid and not really sure about anything it took me a while to find you and your sister. I was devastated when I found out about Amy – our Amy - and I almost lost hope before I found you. You have been extremely hard to find," Christopher admitted with a small smile.

"Wait..." G pulled his gaze away from the flatboat. "So you didn't know where we where while you were in prison?"

"No," Christopher replied. "How could I? The only contact I was permitted was my lawyer and cops."

"So you didn't write the notebook with all the addresses where I and Amy lived?" G asked.

"No."

G frowned. "I think we should get off this pier," he said starting to walk casually back towards the parking lot and restaurants.

Christopher followed walking beside G. "I know what I've said is a lot and hard to take in and I wouldn't have butted in your life like this and messed everything up, if.."

G stopped suddenly and pushed Christopher hard, anger flaring up again. "I can accept that you didn't tell me, because you couldn't find me, but stop with the apologizing. I'd be less inclined to listen and forgive if you'd left me to my misery. Do you know how long I've tried to find out who I am? Who's my family?"

"Sorry," Christopher spoke. "I just mean that I also have a point. You are in danger."

G shrugged and resumed walking. "I'm always in danger."

"Not this kind. It's been thirty three years since that awful day and I haven't gotten much closer to the truth than I was then. Whoever is behind this.. It's big and I think it's finally coming to closure and you and I are the only ones left alive of our family. I don't want anything happening to you."

G grinned reassuringly, "I always pull through." G had his back turned so he never saw the man in the flatboat pull out a mobile and make a call.

They were walking through the Beachcomber when G suddenly asked. "My name... Did you give it to me or...," he trailed off unsure how to tell the man who for all intentions was his father – who had cared for him and sought him out after years of estrangement and for all that they didn't have a biological connection – to G it felt like he had finally found a piece of a puzzle he'd been long looking for – G was unsure how to tell the Christopher that he didn't know his own name.

"No," Christopher said. "Your name was the only thing that your birth parents gave you. Supposedly it's name your birth mother chose, but we kept it just because we liked it and it seemed to suit you."

G bit his lip to stop it from trembling. They walked into the parking lot. "What's my..." The sound of squealing tires drew his attention.

It was like a scene from a nightmare he had lived through before. A black SUV drove off the highway and into the parking lot slowing down drastically, but never stopping. The side doors opened and two guys with guns appeared. They didn't have an automatic machine-gun like the one that tore up G just a year earlier, but still...

G grabbed Christopher and reached for his gun intending to shoot back and push his father out of the way, but Christopher dug his fingers into G's shoulders and dragged G down to the ground with his heavier complexion. Bullets rained over them and Christopher covered G with his own body. It was all over in a matter of seconds.

The motor rumbled and the tires no longer squealed as the SUV picked up speed again and raced out of the parking lot through the exit at the other end.

NCISXNCIS:LA

The first thing they found out when they exited the LAX was that Carl Browning was dead. It was Abby who informed them who had weaseled the information out from their old CIA friend Mr. Trent who had called intent on snooping around when he'd heard that they were also poking around in the same general area.

While Gibbs was more of the kind to grit his teeth in frustration - Tony shook his head and sprawled in the seat of the car they'd just rented. It was ridiculous. Two government agencies were involved - two branches of the NCIS and the bloody CIA, and nobody had any idea. At least, Tony didn't. What hell kind of mess his father had gotten into? Tony felt like laughing.

"Where to, Boss?"

Gibbs didn't answer. He just pulled out his phone and dialed. Actually dialed - he didn't just find the contact number and press call - he actually old-fashionably dialed. Tony smothered his laugh by turning it into a cough.

"We need to talk," Gibbs said into the phone. "Privately." There was a pause. "Half an hour. Ok."

"_Privately..._," Tony drawled quoting. "You know, I'm glad you have a private life _suddenly and now,_ Boss, but what am I? Chopped liver? Or ..." Tony stopped when he was smacked on the back of the head.

"I'll drop you off at the lawyer's office. When you're done - check in with Abby and head to the hotel, I'll meet you there later," Gibbs instructed.

"Now I do feel like a chopped liver," Tony remarked.

Gibbs glared for a moment. He was never really good at being reassuring or comforting, but his Senior Agent had a special talent of pulling at his resources until Gibbs wasn't sure what to do at all which is when he resorted to head slaps or pats, on rare occasions. He patted Tony's head a little before the light on the corner turned green and it was his turn to drive through the intersection.

Somehow the rare show of, well whatever the hell it was (appreciation, comfort ...), didn't make Tony feel better. After all, a nice Gibbs isn't Gibbs.

"Where you're going, Boss?" Tony held back for barely a minute. "I don't want to press... No, actually I do. This is kinda my life we're talking about, not just another case and I need to know."

Gibbs frowned, disapproving of the questioning. "When I'll know something DiNozzo, I'll tell you."

"And at the moment?" Tony fished. He waited for a moment, but the silence stretched, apparently Gibbs wasn't disposed to say anything more. "Nada? Zilch? Zero? Nil? Snipper-snapper?"

Gibbs slowed suddenly before a read light and glanced incredulously at Tony.

Tony shrugged. "Never-mind."

NCISXNCIS:LA

Sam. Calm, self-controlled and self-contained Sam cursed filthily and violently kicked the side of his beloved car. "Fuck you, G!"

"Sam, look at this from this side... The cops say he walked off on his own, so he's okay. I'm sure he is," Kensi said trying to sound calm. She laid a hesitant hand on Sam's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

"What the hell is he thinking?" Sam raged. "No, that's the thing! He _isn't_ thinking! When I get my hands on him..."

"Sam," Kensi said attempting to imitate Hetty's commanding tones. "This isn't helping!"

Sam just glared at Kensi. He knew that she wasn't at fault here. Neither was his car or the cops who had let G walk away from the scene after all G was a federal agent and very persuasive, it was just that G was also his partner and this wasn't how teams worked. This wasn't how partner's worked. One just doesn't leave their back-up at home sleeping. Sam was going to kill G. If somebody didn't get to that first and God be with them if they did.

"Okay, I've managed to turn his phone on _again_," Eric's voice came through the blue-tooth headphones in their ears. "I'm dialing."

Sam stilled.

"Shit," Eric cursed. "He turned it off again."

Sam didn't say a thing. Hell, he didn't even move a muscle.

"You know, he seems not to want to be found, but in that case I just don't get why he hasn't dumped the phone yet. I mean, it would be much less hassle than to keep turning it off every time I turn it on and call," Eric speculated.

Kensi watched Sam carefully. She wasn't sure she could or would want to stop him if he wanted to vent his frustration by smashing something, but since G had gone AWOL, somebody had to keep an eye on Sam, because _that's_ how they worked - like a crazy ass family with a death wish, but still a family.

Sam exhaled and his shoulders drooped a bit. He seemed to collapse a little bit in on himself. Kensi honestly hated G in that moment. They were ready.. They _wanted_ to be there for him. Why wouldn't he let them?

Sam fell back leaning against the car. He looked at the crime scene. The black skid marks on the pavement. The empty bullet casings. The bullet holes in the cars in the parking lot. The blood on the pavement and the cops walking around and measuring distances.

"Do we know anything about the dead guy yet? I'd bet that he's the one who's been calling G for the past two days pretending to be his father."

The distant clacking that was Eric's fingers moving over the keyboard stopped for a moment. A few clicks and a sharp intake of breath. "Err... Nope, the face recognition is still in progress, however judging by the reports he's Asian, so I don't think he's really G's father."

"Okay, call G again," Sam ordered.

"He'll just drop it again," Eric wasn't protesting, he just stated the obvious.

"Then you keep calling until he picks up," even Sam's mild tone was like a plate of steel.

"Yeah. Of course. Sure." And the clacking once again became a background noise.

"You know what I hate about this?" Kensi suddenly started a conversation. Sam didn't even look at her, but that didn't deter her. "I just feel like we should be doing something. Driving somewhere. Shooting something. Anything. But if we go anywhere it could be totally the wrong direction and... I feel useless," she licked her lips which suddenly felt dry. She didn't feel much better by spilling all this, but she could see that it made Sam a little bit less tense.

If all she could do was convey to Sam that he wasn't the only one who was there for G, that he wasn't the only one who hated G for putting them on the back-burner and if that helped them both... Well, that was the best she could do at the moment.

"Eric...," she spoke suddenly a moment later. "Is Hetty around?"

A few seconds of silence filled their comms. "Now that you ask...," Eric answered with a pause, as if he was looking around the ops room searching for Hetty (which he probably was), "I ... I think I saw her earlier, but then she disappeared too."

"What the hell is going on?" Kensi voiced what they all thought.

"Dialing G again," Eric informed tiredly.

NCISXNCIS:LA

G had no idea why Gibbs had called him, but it had to be important, because Gibbs never fooled around, so G tried not to think twice - let the paramedics put antiseptic and a bandage on the deeper one of his bullet grazes while he informed the cops of what happened - and when his cab arrived he left in the narrow time window before his team showed up.

In a sense he hated leaving them behind all the time, but this was something he had to do by himself. All of this. There was no room for other people. It wasn't that he didn't care for them, he didn't want them to get hurt. He didn't want to explain himself, because most of the time he didn't know things - he just felt things and he went with his gut.

Hetty called him while he was in the cab. G unceremoniously dropped every call from the ops center, but Hetty called him privately and he didn't dare drop that call. He picked it up and their conversation was short. So short that he suspected she knew something more than she did, but was reluctant to disclose the information before checking it was safe and true. She told him to be safe and not forget about his team. He told her that this was his mess. She quoted Alexander Dumas and "The Three Musketeers" before ending the call.

He met Gibbs in a prearranged spot. Same park. Same beach side. They had such prearranged spots in several cities. Gibbs was already there expecting him and with a coffee. He took the offered coffee just as his phone rang again, he took a quick look at caller ID before turning it off. He knew it would be another ten minutes before Eric called again.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow - looking questioningly at G.

"I'm afraid I've gone off the grid a bit," G explained.

"You working a case?" Gibbs asked taking a sip from his coffee. It had taken him less time to navigate LA streets to get here from nearly the other side of time, than it took him to get a coffee exactly how he wanted it from the local coffee shop. He had left the vendor nearly in tears.

"Kinda," G replied. "You?"

"The same," Gibbs replied as they started walking slowly, taking a turn around the park, watching all the people there.

G took a sip from his coffee while Gibbs took a pause. G knew from experience that Gibbs wasn't finished; he knew that the older agent will speak when ready.

"It's personal for one of my team," Gibbs said finally. "My Senior Field Agent."

G nodded. It was personal for one member of Gibbs' team so it was personal for Gibbs. G felt the same about his team. "My case. It's also personal."

"And you put your team on the back-burner? I taught you better," Gibbs said frowning.

G laughed. "You're the epitome of the lone wolf. If anybody taught me anything it was Jenny."

Gibbs grimaced. Point taken. "So what have you got?"

"Two attempts on my life and a bunch of cadavers," G replied a bit bitterly before succinctly laying out the main events of the last few days. "So what have you got that's taken you out to LA?"

"A hell of a coincidence it seems," Gibbs replied. "Keelsen figures into my case too. He's somebody DiNozzo's father hired. But that is not the reason why I'm here and why I wanted to talk to you in private. It's something your technicians stumbled on to. Yesterday an Archive server of the New York Supreme Court crashed. What do you know about it?"

G frowned. He shook his head. He could feel where this conversation was going. His throat was dry so he took a big gulp of hot coffee to scorch it - to feel something else besides his heart thundering in his ribcage. _He was close._ For the first time in a long time he was once again starting to believe that he was going to find out who he is. His and Gibbs' cases where connected. His and Gibbs' cases where about him. He almost wanted to stay in this moment rather than to find out more and end up in another dead end.

His phone rang and for once G took the call. "Eric," he said. "Did you manage to get anything from that crashed server?"

Eric was silent for a moment - stunned that G had actually picked up. He had been about to initiate another cycle of _turn on the phone-call G_... "Ehr... A moment," he quickly ran over to another computer terminal and checked it, and then hesitated for a moment while putting Sam and Kensi on the line. "Yeah, I've got something. Give me a moment, G," he stalled while quickly putting Sam and Kensi on mute, so they wouldn't accidentally tip G off.

"Oh," Eric exhaled browsing the retrieved information. "Wow."

"Talk to me, Eric," G drawled impatiently.

"It's a file that was in the section about adoptions. It was a file sealed and locked, and closed with every imaginable encryption so no wonder my bots didn't find it before and the erase sequence was exceptionally good it erased a lot and fast, and irreversibly, but I have the first page. Some bits missing, but the idea's pretty clear..."

"Eric...," G drawled that a lot calmer than he actually felt at the moment. "Don't make me ask you."

"You were given up for adoption. According to this your birth-certificate was empty except for your name, because the guy who gave you up... I think he's some kind of business mogul and obviously a huge ass..." Eric paused. "It's DiNozzo something - the guy's name, I mean - the rest is just initials."


	5. Gabriel

_**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I don't own NCIS Los Angeles.**_

**A/N** – The ending might seem a bit abrupt, but it was a good place to end it all. If I ever have the craving to do the reactions of other characters in the 'verse to the revelations or expand on what_ really_ happened to DiNozzo Corp. in the end – I'll write an epilogue. No promises, though.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 – Gabriel<strong>

Tony was running down the parking lot when his phone rang. He used what little breath he had to curse at the situation, but didn't dare to ignore the call. He picked it up and tried to run faster. The guy he was after was ahead of him big time.

"DiNozzo…," Gibbs paused when he noticed Tony's harsh breathing on the other end of the line. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, it's not what you think, Boss," Tony chuckled, out of breath. It wasn't the exercise that got to him; it was his poor, plague-surviving lungs. "Hey, wait!" he yelled. The guy he was chasing was already getting into a car.

"What's going on?" Gibbs wasn't patient on his best days.

For a second Tony heard the engine purring as it started and then the explosion threw him on his back. The phone flew from his hand and smashed on the asphalt.

He tried to lift his head, but it he felt like he could feel the Earth spinning beneath him. His ears were ringing and his vision was blurry. When he tried to turn his head left, he found himself looking right. He raised himself on his elbows and tried to get a grip on his senses, but before he could even start to think properly, he was seized, dragged to his feet and thrown in a limousine.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Something's wrong," Gibbs tucked away his mobile. "The call just ended."

G forced himself to keep breathing calmly. "Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, I dropped him off at some lawyer's office, let's go," Gibbs motioned already hurrying to the car. G didn't say a thing; he just followed Gibbs to the car.

It was some minutes later when they were stuck at a red traffic light that G finally felt like speaking. "Do you think…," he cut himself off unsure what to say. What did he mean to ask? Whether it was coincidence that he'd been given up for adoption by someone named DiNozzo? Ridiculous. Whether Gibbs also thought that G might be Tony's long lost brother and vice versa? Maybe, he wanted to ask whether shit had hit the fan _again_.

"Yes," Gibbs answered.

G nodded. '_Yes'_ to everything. He hated how this situation made him feel – like he was on the verge of either having it all or losing everything. A week, hell, two days ago he would have given just about anything to learn his name, now all he wanted to know was that his brother was safe, which he probably wasn't. He glanced at Gibbs, he hadn't asked, but G was pretty sure that Gibbs knew his name – well, G was sure that Gibbs knew Tony DiNozzo's brother's name and G was reasonably sure that he was that brother. He didn't ask, at least not that. Instead he said, "Drive faster."

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Yes, Hetty!" Eric picked up the call trying to sound as cheerful and energetic as possible. Maybe too much.

"Mr. Beal take your feet off the table," was the first thing that she said.

Eric moved suddenly, sitting up straight, nearly falling off his chair. "How did...," he started to ask before shaking his head and stopping himself. After all, Hetty _always_ knew. "What can I do for you, Hetty?"

"I want you to check whether there have been any vehicles rented in Los Angeles by DiNozzo Corporation or any of its employees or sub-companies."

"On it," Eric replied instantly already typing away at the keyboard. Short time later his program pinged with an answer. "Argh…," he groaned into the microphone.

"Is something the matter?" there was a note of impatience in Hetty's tone.

"Well, one of the companies that the DN Corporation owns is a car rental," he replied wincing, even though there was silence on the other end of the line. He bit his lip, silence stretched. "Hetty?" he finally asked a few moments later.

"All the cars from a car rental will be tagged with GPS locator," Hetty didn't phrase it like a question.

"Yes," to Eric it had sounded like a question.

"Get the route maps from navigational memory of the cars and find the car that was near the explosion downtown fifteen minutes ago."

"There was explosion downtown?" Eric asked sitting up straighter.

"Find the car that was there and where it is now then notify Mr. Callen and the rest of the team."

"Hetty…," Eric didn't get to finish, because Hetty had already dropped the call. He pouted. Sometimes he felt like a call-centre operator.

NCISXNCIS:LA

As soon as G had disconnected from the call, so had Sam. Kensi looked at him questioningly, but he didn't explain as he scrolled down his contact list and found one – Abby Sciuto. He hadn't particularly minded when she had put her phone number in his and G's phones, but he had honestly never thought that he would one day find it useful.

"Abby," he didn't bother with preliminaries. "Tell me what you know about Agent DiNozzo." As soon as he had heard Eric say the name he had remembered how Abby had told him all about her team in Washington – particularly about the Senior Field Agent who was a great friend of hers.

Kensi who had quietly watched Sam, nearly jumped in surprise. There was an NCIS _agent_ named DiNozzo? A coincidence?

"He's got a great smile and he's actually all muscle. At least his thighs are," was the joyous answer over the phone.

Sam grimaced. "Abby, I'm serious. G's life may depend on this," he entreated.

"What do you want to know?" she asked seriously.

"Who is he? Who is his father? His family? Anything that might be important and, please, give me the short version. I'm short on time."

"Oh, my God," Abby cried out, her mind already connecting the loose dots and reaching the correct conclusions. "I was so right!" she squeeled.

"Abby, I don't understand," Sam said sharply.

"I did tell everyone that Tony's brother has got to be hot and Gabriel is," she spoke quickly in her excitement.

"Who is Gabriel?" Sam frowned, utterly confused.

"Tony's brother, of course," she replied promptly. "Oh, of course, you don't know, see, from our end we are investigating Tony, or rather Tony's father, because he blackmailed Tony with his will and it turns out that Tony has a missing half-brother, well, not really missing, more like long-lost half-brother and we've been tearing through servers, err," the flood stopped. "Pretend you didn't hear that."

"Which part?" Sam asked trying to process the onslaught of information that didn't really help.

"Good boy!" Abby sounded pleased. "Now our trail lead to a lawyer, a spy-ish dude named Keelsen and a dead guy named Browning in LA and LA is where you have G who has only ever know that he's G… Do you get it?" she asked giddily nearly bouncing on her feet. "The name Gabriel starts with…"

"G," Sam finished for her.

"You're fantastic!"

"Are you completely sure about this, Abby?" he asked seriously. He didn't doubt her skills or intellect, but this was for G – this was so important for G that Sam would double-check even his own mother before trusting the information.

"One hundred percent positive since you called," she replied without hesitation.

Sam took a deep, calming breath. G had a brother. G had family. G's name was Gabriel. Sam wasn't sure why, but his own heart was hammering in his chest. He took another breath before speaking, "You said the trail of your investigation ended in LA. Any chance that anyone from your team is going to come here?"

"Oh," Abby bit her lip. "They're already there. I mean Gibbs and Tony arrived at LAX about an hour ago. You guys haven't met yet?"

"No," Sam replied shortly, already realizing that G must have met at least Gibbs by now – the two Agents were close, close enough that Sam as G's current partner felt a little jealous, not that he'd admit it out loud.

"That's weird, because Tony was completely all over the case, he wouldn't have stopped for anything… Something must be wrong."

Sam found himself nodding before he realized that Abby was waiting for a verbal answer. "Yeah," he offered. Things always went wrong when G went off the grid.

Abby sighed. "Okay, I'll check with McGee and Ziva, see if they know anything. If you find something – call me."

"We'll let you know," Sam assured her. Just as she was about to drop the call, he spoke suddenly, "Agent DiNozzo…"

Abby understood what Sam wanted to ask, but didn't. "Tony will be ecstatic to find out that G is his brother."

"Thanks, Abby," Sam said. "For everything," he added before ending the call.

"We're family," Abby replied, even though the call was already over. She shrugged and put the receiver down before racing out of her lab.

NCISXNCIS:LA

G stood still staring at the wreck of the car. He was silent and his expression was blank. He hoped to God he never prayed to that the body in the car wasn't the brother he'd never met – that his entire life-long search hadn't ended at another _dead_ end. He wished that his team was here. There was nothing he couldn't do without them, but there also was nothing that he couldn't do smarter and better with them.

He was startled when Gibbs clasped his shoulder in an attempt to comfort. G nearly rolled his eyes – Gibbs was pathetic at comforting people.

"It's not DiNozzo," Jethro said motioning impatiently at the car. "It's the lawyer he was supposed to visit."

G nodded. _Good._ But then, "Where is your Agent?" he asked sharply glancing at Gibbs.

Jethro frowned. He wasn't happy with this either. He wasn't happy period. He cared about his team and he really, really hated kidnappings. "I have no idea where your brother is," he answered before wincing.

G glared. An unspoken _'Second 'B' for bastard, right?'_ passed between them. Gibbs nodded feeling somewhat guilty, but no less frustrated or angry.

"He must have been taken," Gibbs mused turning his head to stare at the wreck.

"But nobody knows you're here," Callen countered before also turning to stare straight ahead. "Besides you flew in what – two hours ago?"

"So it must be someone who knows a whole lot more about you and DiNozzo than you do yourselves and someone who wants to keep things quiet, keep _you both_ quiet."

"You mean –dead," G specified shifting on his feet.

"Possibly, but probably not for now or you'd already be dead," Gibbs theorized looking at the policemen working the scene.

G nodded in agreement. "So what's the deal with the lawyer?" he asked a moment later.

"Supposedly handled the adoption case of DiNozzo's brother and generally got all official records pertaining that to be either sealed or dismissed."

"So he was the legal clean up guy," G summarized.

"Basically."

"You have any ideas?"

Gibbs shook his head even though he knew that Callen wasn't even looking at him. "Nope."

Eleven minutes later G got a call from Eric.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Walter," Tony drawled as he came to consciousness. "Your ugly mug is not the first thing I have ever wanted to see upon opening my baby blues." He rubbed at the back of his head with his bound hands. "Did one of your gorillas whack me with a stick? It's terribly Stone Age thing to do, you know? Whack me over the head, drag me into your…," he looked around. "Limo."

"Shut up."

"So eloquent Walter, I wonder…," Tony shifted inching closer to the door.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll have you whacked again. I really do prefer you unconscious," Walter sneered.

"Kinky," Tony commented casually scanning his surroundings. It was hard to judge the speed of the car with all the windows tinted, but he was pretty sure that even if the doors weren't locked – jumping out wouldn't be a good idea.

"I can't wait to kill you," Walter hissed.

"Really? Then why are you waiting?" Tony asked leaning back into his seat. No need to be more uncomfortable than necessary. "No, seriously. What are you waiting for?" Tony's lips opened wide in a taunting grin. "I don't think one can actually grow a spine, if you know what I …" he stopped when he was punched in the mouth. "Ouch."

Walter smiled. "I don't want to kill _just_ you. I want to kill your brother too," he shared happily.

"What do you mean?" Tony frowned. "Why? _Wait._ You know who my brother is?"

Walter nearly rolled his eyes. It was so good to know something that someone else desperately wanted to know. "I'm not stupid," he said. "I'm not going to let your brother live and risk the chance that he might find out about you and then come after me in rage. I'm going to kill two birds with one stone." Walter licked his lips. "Or rather – I'm going to kill two NCIS agents in one go."

Tony reeled back. His brother was a NCIS agent? It was hard to hide his shock. Had he already met his brother? Passed him in a corridor? The opportunities were endless, but Tony's musings stopped suddenly at the next thought – he was going to be the bait for his brother to walk into a trap.

"What makes you think an NCIS agent would fall for anything you could ever plan?" Tony asked disdainfully.

"Well," Walter drawled. "If I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise and you keep telling everyone that you _love _surprises."

NCISXNCIS:LA

G nearly bit his own tongue off when he saw the limousine that Eric had managed to track down go off the bridge over Ballona Creek on the Lincoln Boulevard in Marina del Rey. He put both of his hands in front of himself, bracing against the dashboard as Gibbs hit on the brakes and their car came to a sudden stop a few feet from where the limousine had gone over the edge.

Callen frantically undid his seatbelt and practically flew from the car. He was at the edge of the bridge in few short moments. He looked down and saw the limousine slowly, but completely go under the water. Nobody swam up. He swallowed hard.

"Maybe it wasn't the right car," Gibbs spoke up from beside Callen.

"It was," G said tiredly. "Eric was sure of it and he doesn't make mistakes like that."

Gibbs cursed.

Callen didn't have it in him to nod in agreement. He just stared at the spot where the limousine had gone down before a movement of shadows drew his attention to the side. He frowned and stepped closer to the edge, stopping when he felt Gibbs grasp at his shirt.

"What the hell are you doing, Callen?" Jethro growled.

G shook his head and motioned at beneath the bridge. "There's something there."

NCISXNCIS:LA

Sam and Kensi had been on their way in to the Ops centre when Eric had called them telling them about the car they were to follow. They had been quite a way behind G and Gibbs so that when the limousine went over the bridge, they were far enough to successfully turn around and drive down to the Creek itself.

Unfortunately the area was completely open so as soon as they drove out from the bushes, they were noticed and sensing and untimely showdown – Walter's men began to fire at the cars with semi-automatic weapons. Sam and Kensi stopped immediately. Kensi leaned down for cover from the bullets – she tried to kick her driver's door open for more cover while Sam managed to push his door open and slipped from his seat to offer some counter fire.

Behind the five men firing their guns was another man who was pulling a semi-conscious guy with him. Sam correctly assumed that the one barely standing was Agent DiNozzo.

He ducked behind the door of his car under the lead storm coming his way. His trigger finger itched. He knew there was little time. He had to take out the guards so that he could take out the kidnapper before the guy panicked and shot G's brother.

He heard them pause for reload. Both he and Kensi moved simultaneously rising, sliding from their covers and firing. They killed three men before they had to duck for cover once again.

NCISXNCIS:LA

Tony's guts hurt. Mostly from being kicked several times in the ribs and then pushed from a moving car on a slow turn before the bridge, but some of the pain was due to the fact that he was laughing. "This is your grand plan?" he asked looking up at Walter from where he was lying on the ground. "I can't believe I was worried for a bit."

Walter gritted his teeth. This wasn't how everything was supposed to happen at all. He pushed Tony, hiding behind his bodyguards, unsure what to do. His men were dying. He suspected that he might not get out of this alive and the realization terrified him. When only two of his men were standing – Walter panicked.

He grabbed the gun from the closest corpse and pointed it at Tony.

"Hey, hey, hey…" Tony raised his bound hands. Walter was close to him and Tony wasn't sure he could avoid being shot. He was also in no position to charge at Walter, consequences be damned. "Think about this," he asked.

"I am thinking," Walter swallowed hard. "I'm thinking the old classic. If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me!"

Next everything happened very quickly. Sam and Kensi moved from their covered positions and killed the remaining two henchmen. G dropped from the top of the bridge hanging on a tow rope, shooting Walter in the head before falling into the water and Tony flipped backwards (or, at least, _tried_ to) doing his best to move out of the trajectory of Walter's gun.

"You okay, Callen?" asked Gibbs from the top of the bridge when G surfaced a few moments later.

"You dropped me!" G yelled at him.

Gibbs just shrugged. Sam allowed himself to laugh once he made sure that all the guys on the ground except DiNozzo were really dead. He laughed with relief – because G was fine and none of the good guys had died this time. He laughed, because he knew how heavy G's ass was – he had lowered his partner two stories down on a fire hose, after all.

"Sam's never dropped me!" G complained loudly as he waded out of the water.

"I told you to lay off those donuts," Sam teased.

Kensi pocketed her gun and shook her head when all the guys looked at her for her five cents in the squabble. "I'm just glad you're okay," she said moving towards Tony to cut his ropes.

NCISXNCIS:LA

"Thanks, man," Tony said and clapped G on the shoulder before bending over to catch some breath. He did manage to grin at his boss who had also joined them below the bridge.

G grit his teeth. He wasn't sure how to start this conversation, but from the stares he could feel his team and Gibbs were boring in his back – everyone knew what this was about. Everyone except Tony that is. "This is going to be … Awkward."

Tony frowned and straightened. "What do you mean?"

G extended his hand. "Hi," he said. "I'm Callen."

Tony took the offered hand and shook it, smiling. "Cheers, I'm Tony DiNozzo, but if you're with Gibbs you probably already knew that." Tony shifted on his feet, a bit unsettled by Callen staring at him. He replayed the conversation in his head trying to think of something he'd missed. "So…," he drawled. "Just Callen? No nickname? Name?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping you could help me out on that one," G replied smiling softly.

Tony frowned again, "How should I…," he fell silent as he connected the dots in his head. He glanced over Callen's shoulder at Gibbs, at all the other agents – they all knew. Tony looked back at G. "You're my brother!" he exclaimed before pulling Callen into a hug.

G laughed returning the hug. "Your big brother," he quipped.

"My long-lost brother," Tony countered pulling away, but he didn't stop grinning. He shook his head a little, he could read a question in the other man's eyes, but he didn't quite understand until, he remembered what Abby had said so long ago when she came home from LA. Callen… Tony's brother didn't know his own name, only a letter, only the first letter. He gripped Callen's shoulders.

"You're my brother," he repeated. "You're Gabriel."

The End


End file.
